Honour Amongst Snakes
by frozenpixie
Summary: So how was it that Lucius and Narcissa first got together? Love at first sight or arrangement by their parents over a glass of firewhisky? It was neither, and nor did the path of their love run smoothly before or after 'I do'.
1. First News

-1- First News

Lucius was twenty-three, and in the opinion of his father Abraxas, it was high time he was married to produce his own heir. The man was only fifty-nine, but already he felt his position precarious, in need of securing. In the service of the Dark Lord nothing was certain, and he wanted as many eggs in his basket as possible in the hope that, when it was dropped, at least one would survive to carry on his name. He was confident that Lucius would approve his choice, and he hastened to summon his son into his study as soon as he received an owl from the girl's parents consenting to the match.

Lucius was not impressed.

"The Black girl?" He exclaimed in horror. "Father have you lost your mind? She is as promiscuous as they come, no good at all if you want to ensure that your grandchild is, in fact, your own!"

Abraxas frowned. No such rumour had reached his ears, and he had, as physically impossible as it was, both of them to the ground constantly.

"The younger one?" He queried. "I wasn't under the impression that you had met her." He gazed piercingly at his son, who had long since learnt to hold his own, and gave nothing away. The fact was that he and Bella had been something of an item on his Hogwarts days, and that they had both cheated magnificently on each other. Their break-up row had torn half the common room apart, so he was not relishing the idea of marrying her.

"She was in my year at Hogwarts, father," he reminded Abraxas.

"Nonsense, she's just turned eighteen," Abraxas contradicted.

"You are misinformed," Lucius said curtly. His patience with his father was waning. At fifty-nine he ought to have had all his faculties, but his mind got more easily muddled and Lucius did not appreciate being engaged without his knowledge to a girl who, last time they had spoken, had threatened to turn his, er, manhood, into a pumpkin pasty.

"It cannot be, I was told by the girl's mother, and she must be aware of her age. Let me just check..." Abraxas fumbled among his papers until her found a shakily-scripted family tree. "Ah, I see the misunderstanding here, boy. You are referring to Bellatrix, no?" Lucius nodded curtly.

"Ah, well I have chosen as your bride the youngest daughter, Narcissa, who would have been in her second year when you left Hogwarts."

Lucius frowned, trying to remember back to his Hogwarts days. In the intervening years, a flurry of gambling, drinking and pretty witches had blurred the memories of his school. He remembered Andromeda, a few years above him, much like Bella but rounder, primmer. He vividly remembered Bellatrix, every part of her, more than he wished. She had been a demoness in the sack, but unfortunately, a demoness outside of it, too. He could not recall another sister, but vague memories were surfacing of a little, pale, blonde girl he had seen with Bella in the common room a few times.

"Blonde girl?" He grunted finally, hoping his guess was right.

"I've never laid eyes on her myself, but she's from an excellent family and will do very well for you," Abraxas blustered.

"And do I get a choice in the matter?" Lucius asked lightly. His voice barely trembled at all with the repressed anger he was feeling.

"Come now, son. Don't you trust me to look out for your happiness?" Abraxas reproached. "Your mother and I were married by arrangement and we got along splendidly when she was alive."

Lucius snorted, but did not bother bringing up the time when Morgana had tried to poison her husband's evening firewhisky with Draught of the Living Dead.

"Well do I get to meet the girl at all or do I have to wait until I lift up the veil to see if I can bear to spend the rest of my life married to her?" Lucius asked sarcastically.

"Don't be a fool, of course you must see her," Abraxas scoffed. "You must be seen to have a suitable courting period. Arrangements such as these are not... condoned, in the strictest sense. It is an old-fashioned thing, but it has worked well in the past and I do not care to leave the choice to you. Your taste in companions is, it is rumoured, erring on the unsavoury, and at this rate I will be in my grave long before I get a grandson."

"When am I to expect the pleasure of my future wife's company, then?" Lucius said through gritted teeth. His father ignored the mutinous expression on Lucius' face and consulted his notes.

"Next Thursday we will entertain her to afternoon tea," he said mildly. "You are dismissed."

Lucius nodded curtly and stalked from the room, kicking his father's personal House Elf on the way out to vent his impotent rage. A wife! That would impede his freedom no end. He currently spent most of his time in a two-bed flat above Diagon Alley, where he was comparatively free from his father's watchful eye and able to invite ladies back to spend the night whenever he pleased, which was often. He also enjoyed playing host to a large bunch of, as his father said, shady characters that would fill the rooms with raucous laughter and the stench of smoke and alcohol. He was not keen on the idea of sharing his bachelor pad with somebody on a permanent basis, especially somebody who was likely to spread out in lace doilies and elegantly shaped scent bottles. Especially somebody who, nine months or so down the line, was expected to squeeze out a squalling brat.

A Black, too, would be awkward. His history with Bella was one thing, and something he wished to distance himself from as much as possible, but he was also very much involved in dealings which he was pretty sure they would not entirely approve of. He was aware that the Blacks were passively supportive of the anti-muggle movement led by the Dark Lord, but that they were not keen to be personally involved in the campaign. He doubted very much whether his new wife would be pleased with his ambition to enter the leading circle of the ranks, and he did not want at all to have to creep around like a criminal in his own house. When this Narcissa came, she had better be of the agreeable, diminutive sort. And she had better have a decent rack on her, too, if he were to be forced into fidelity.

**A/N: Hello and welcome to this fic! I wrote it a long while ago, but I don't want to delete it as a lot of people still read it and I hope enjoy it, but just a warning that later on I make reference to a lot of links on my profile which no longer exist, and the potential for a sequel, which no longer exists. Just as long as you know this, there's no reason not to carry on reading if you like it so far, and reviews and comments are still appreciated, since I spent a lot of time and effort writing this, and I still think some of it is pretty cool, even if other bits make me criiiinge, as most things do a few years down the line. Anyway, that's pretty much it. Happy reading :D**


	2. First Meeting

-2- First Meeting

Lucius was not pacing, or loosening his tie or checking his teeth in the ornate gold mirror or any of the other things men do nervously before meeting their intended. Instead he was lounging in a green velvet chair in the library wearing a casual shirt and trousers (he never wore tracksuits or t-shirts, this was as informal as he got) and flipping lazily through a copy of _Playwizard_ he had found under the couch. He was in his father's manor, but he was refusing to work up a sweat about meeting this Narcissa girl. It was already ten past two, and she was supposed to have arrived at two. Lucius did not know whether she was downstairs in her pretty dress, fuming at his lack of courtesy, or sitting in her own chair reading copies of _Witch Weekly _and refusing, as he was, to cooperate. The answer came in a hurricane of green silk robes and white hair. His father was not in a good mood.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, boy?" he hissed as he entered the room and took in Lucius' relaxed pose. "You are meant to be downstairs entertaining charmingly your guest and future wife!"

"Oh, she showed, did she?" Lucius drawled.

"What? Of course she showed. Only an ill-bred buffoon would blatantly ignore an arrangement to take tea with somebody. She arrived five minutes ago and I have had to make your excuses. It is a humiliation, I tell you. Now go downstairs right now and behave with the dignity due to your position."

"Of course," Lucius murmured, inclining his head in a mockery of the courteous manner he was meant to be assuming. He did not turn to look at his father as he descended to the morning room, but he knew he would be scowling blackly at Lucius' back all the way to the door, where he would again assume the expression of an affable old gentleman. With no sigh of hesitation or reticence, Lucius pushed open the door, which was pulled the rest of the way by a tiny House Elf in Malfoy colours. He saw that fresh flowers had been placed all around the room, giving it a subtly floral scent. The windows were half open and a light summer breeze made the room airy and pleasant. She must be eager to get her hands on this, Lucius thought cynically to himself. He cast his eyes around and spotted a young woman with silvery blonde hair hanging loose about her face and wearing a dark blue tea dress and sneakers. It was a bizarre image; a mixture of demure elegance and rebellious deviation. Ah, clearly she was not keen on the prospect of arranged marriage, either. His face gave nothing of his thoughts away, though, as he crossed the room and bent over her hand.

"Miss Black, I presume?" he purred in his best snooty voice. "What a pleasure for you to meet my acquaintance." He was being risky, he knew, but he knew his father would not notice. Ah, there he was, nodding along happily at Lucius' seeming politeness. Slippery as the snake he was, Lucius was determined at least to get some pleasure out of tormenting this silly little girl.

"Mr Malfoy. On the contrary, the pleasure is all yours," the girl returned, with acid sweetness. Lucius blinked. His respect for her increased.

"Would you like some more tea?" he asked in innocently polite tones. "Plenty of sugar, I take it?"

"Thank you, no. I do not have a sweet tooth," she replied coolly. "Allow me." She took an empty cup and began to pour out tea for him.

"Strong or weak?" she asked. It sounded to him like a challenge. He hated strong tea, but he found himself saying

"Strong and bitter. Just my type." A mocking smile twisted her lips as she handed him the cup, and here Abraxas Malfoy broke in on the contest of veiled insults.

"Capital. I see you young people are getting along well, so I will leave you to get better acquainted with each other." With that he clapped his hands, and the House Elves tripped over each other to open the door for him. The unwillingly betrothed couple were left alone.

Lucius was as slippery as they came, but his insults worked best when veiled. He was a lot worse at direct confrontation, and he was at a loss for what to say. He compromised by sipping his tea and grimacing at the bitter flavour. Narcissa gave a small, cold chuckle.

"Are you sure you will not take something to sweeten it?" she asked in mock-innocence. "These cakes look as if they took a lot of effort to make, it would be a shame to waste them." There was nothing directly offensive in what she said, but Lucius was getting a little riled up by her attitude. Of there was any unpleasantness it should come from him.

"Why would I need anything to sweeten it when I get the immense pleasure of looking at you," he said silkily. In fact she was fairly easy upon the eye, he had to admit, although with a slightly sour look which marred her delicate features. He also noted that she had a little cluster of freckles on the bridge of her nose, which surprised but gratified him. At least she was a looker, maybe he could stand waking up next to her every day.

"Enough pleasantries for now, I think," Narcissa said calmly. "If we are to be married we must have a wider range of breakfast table conversation than this." Lucius retracted his last internal comment. Every comment she made was dripping with a bitter syrup of snideness. And he resented the fact that she seemed to have a better handle on the conversation than he did.

"What did you have in mind then, Miss Black, for a suitable topic of conversation?" he asked smoothly, still polite and even. "Fashions, perhaps, or hair products, or curtain samples? The choice is yours."

"Indeed, if my future husband's conversational topics are limited to these I shall have rather a dull time," Narcissa responded carelessly. Lucius cursed internally. He had walked into that one.

"You misunderstand me," he said icily.

"Indeed?" Narcissa said lightly. Lucius wished she would stop using that word.

"How am I to know what a young woman such as yourself wishes to converse about? I was merely attempting to express an interest in female matters of concern."

"And I believe I can guess where you picked up your ideas of 'female matters of concern', Mr Malfoy," Narcissa trilled, smiling nastily. Lucius' hand bunched involuntarily into a fist.

"On what higher matters is your mind preoccupied then, pray?" he growled.

"Nothing would please me more than to enlighten you but, alas, I have a previous engagement which I cannot afford to miss." She gestured at the large grandfather clock, which read half past two, and rang the bell, at which two cheery House Elves appeared with small pops to escort her rapturously out. "It has been such a pleasure, Mr Malfoy, do thank your father for the delightful cakes."

"I will look forward to seeing you again soon. Enjoy your bowling game," Lucius sneered, with a pointed glance at her sneakers which did, in fact, look remarkably like bowling shoes. Narcissa gave him a thin-lipped smile and swept from the room. Lucius sat back down with a sigh and helped himself to three of the cakes.

"Ah, she has left?" Abraxas said, entering the room as Lucius was brushing icing sugar off his fingers.

"_Indeed_," Lucius said.

"Did you find her pleasant company?"

"Indeed," Lucius said.

"Ah, she enjoyed the cakes, I see."

"Indeed," said Lucius. "Excuse me, father." He beat a hasty retreat to the library where he engaged himself with drawing a careful picture of his delightful bride and burning it with the tip of his wand until nothing but a pile of ashes remained.


	3. First Fight

**The events in this chapter are slightly inspired by Brat Farrer, just so you know, but it just called to me. Fun, fun, fun. Yay. Ok, I'm done now. Read, my pretties, and do feel free to review.**

-3- First Fight

This time around, Lucius was decked out in full riding gear; jodhpurs, boots and a loose, long-sleeved shirt complete with waistcoat and padded gloves. He was awaiting Narcissa in the stables to take her out on the horses. It was three days since the tea party, and he was determined not to be outsmarted by the girl again, as he felt he had been at their first meeting. He adopted another casual pose, one leg draped over the paddock fence, reclining on a bale of hay as he waited for her to arrive. He felt, however, once he had settled, that a piece of straw to chew would complete the look of a country hick, so he hurriedly rose from the hay and began instead to help the stable House Elves to get the horses ready.

"Dobby and Happy is doing this, Master Lucius," one of the elves squeaked. "Master Lucius isn't needing to dirty his clothes."

"Nonsense, Elf," Lucius snapped. "I am quite capable, thank you. Go and do something which is actually useful." He snatched the saddle from the tiny elf and began fixing it on himself.

"Very good, sir, we is leaving." Dobby piped, bowing manically on his way out of the stable.

"Good morning, Mr Malfoy," a cool female voice said behind him. He turned slightly.

"Ah, Miss Black, may I say that you look perfectly ravishing and eminently suitable for this morning's activities," Lucius said graciously. She was wearing a floor-length russet skirt and scarlet basque with a balloon-sleeved white shirt underneath. There was a lot of pale white bosom showing. Her hair was done in a French braid and her lips were blood red. She looked like a whore from the eighteenth century, but somehow managed to pull the look off admirably.

"Please, I am perfectly capable of riding in a skirt," Narcissa demurred.

"We have no side saddle. I am afraid a Malfoy expects his wife to be able to ride properly," Lucius challenged.

"Indeed. I require no saddle, Mr Malfoy, but if you feel more comfortable with one, then I will of course use one also," Narcissa smirked.

"Oh? I was only bothering with the niceties for your convenience, my dear Miss Black. Let us delay no further then." Lucius removed the saddle swiftly from the bay mare the House Elves had chosen for Narcissa. "Perhaps a more magnificent animal would suit you better, also," he invited.

The two of them drifted towards the animals, and Lucius selected his favourite black stallion, Cobra, and led him to the entrance, where he tethered him in readiness. He then returned to capture the feisty new mare that had been named Viper for her vicious tendency to run against the side of a fence or under low branches to throw her rider off. All the Malfoy stock was named after snakes. He brought the horse towards the waiting Narcissa.

"Only the finest for you, Miss Black," he said smoothly. Narcissa eyed the beast, and decided that it came up to scratch – it was indeed a beautiful animal, honey-gold and shining.

"If she is the best you have," Narcissa said casually. Lucius grinned; he could tell she was impressed.

"Are you absolutely certain you require no saddle?" he offered again, more to annoy her than anything else. She sent him a scathing look, and swung herself without assistance onto the horse's back. He raised his eyebrows and followed suit on his own steed, preceding her from the stables and into the yard. Determined to exhibit his fine horsemanship, he led Cobra twice around the roomy paddock at a canter, poised elegantly on his back, and finished by teasing the horse into rearing up in what he knew was a very dramatic manner. Arriving back next to Narcissa, he was pleased to note that she could not quite conceal the admiration in her eyes.

"Tell me, Mr Malfoy, do you have a pathological need to impress every single girl you meet, even the ones you despise?" she asked. Lucius started. This was more direct than he had expected.

"Where did you get the impression that I either despise you or seek to impress you?" he asked.

"Must I answer that?" Narcissa asked, looking bored. "I would prefer to actually do what I came here to do rather than banter with you all day."

"By all means," Lucius invited. "We can go through the orchard, across the bridge or along the river, whichever you prefer."

"I would prefer across country," Narcissa decided. "Is that acceptable to you?"

"Naturally," Lucius replied. This would mean riding across the lawns and towards the forest; let her see then how superior her horsemanship is.

They rode in silence, each intent on outriding the other. Lucius was irritated that his skill was not as superior as he had hoped, but impressed despite himself at her poise and command; she had no difficulty in remaining perfectly seated. He also enjoyed a little more than he would have chosen, the sight of her stockinged legs and booted feet underneath her full skirt, which was hitched up out of the way. He was an arrogant man by nature, and could not resist a little show of skill, performing a small jump over a hedge instead of taking a roundabout route. Narcissa scowled as she rode parallel to the hedge, waiting for an opening; he had not given her enough warning to perform a jump herself. He felt a little better having bested her, and had a sudden and unexpected stab of conscience about the risk he was putting her at as they approached the first few scattered trees. Although she had proven to be a good rider Viper could be quite vicious and several of the grooms who had tested her had returned with broken limbs or at the least ugly bruises. Displeased as he was with the prospect of marriage, he did not think it would help to antagonise Narcissa more than a little, and he felt that maybe he should start making an effort to get on with her a little more. He turned his horse a little so that he was riding closer to her. She half-glanced at him and spurred her horse on, overtaking him.

"Damn," he whispered. "Wait, we need to turn right here," he called, but she did not slow; the wind was in his face, so he doubted his voice could carry far enough for her to hear. He sped up to try and intercept her before reaching the forest. She must have heard his thundering hooves if not his yell, because she sped up even further.

"Why does she have to be so stubborn?" Lucius cursed again. He slowed deliberately and veered to the right instead of pursuing, in the hope that she would realise and follow. She saw him; he saw her hesitate, then continue forwards into the thickening trees.

"Damn her! Narcissa, wait," he called. "Don't go in there." It was too late, though. She was already in and he would have to follow. It was a sunny day but the shadows were deeper under the canopy of trees, and in the increasing gloom he could not see Narcissa. Slowing to a trot he glanced around him. All he could hear were his own crunching progress. Then, to his far left, he heard a scream. Immediately he veered off course in that direction, moving swiftly into a full gallop. Within a minute he heard the whinnying of a horse, and saw a flash of scarlet and blonde through the trees. Heart in his throat, he slowed and moved towards the scene, half expecting a prone figure, pale and bloody, on the ground.

What he found was an irritable young woman, skirt torn across the back, dusting herself off and checking the damage.

"You low bastard," she hissed when he came in close.

"W-what?" Lucius said, taken aback. "I followed, didn't I?" he added sulkily.

"Oh well done, Malfoy, do you want a prize?" she snapped.

"I don't know what your problem is; you were the one who ran off," Lucius regrouped.

"You knew she would try and knock me off. I could have been killed," Narcissa whispered furiously. "That would have made things very convenient for you, I suppose."

"Are you insane?" Lucius yelped. "Just because you fell off your horse don't go pinning it on me. I tried to warn you not to go into the woods, but you were too arrogant to listen."

"Warn me? Guilty conscience, Malfoy?" Narcissa asked venomously. She winced slightly as she adjusted her skirt.

"Are you hurt?" Lucius asked, very gallantly he felt, considering his treatment.

"Do you care?" Narcissa retorted. Lucius scowled.

"Fine, feel free to suffer in silence then," he snapped.

"Oh stop playing the wounded party," Narcissa said impatiently. "I hit my shoulder, but it's fine, thank you for your concern."

"Can I look?" Lucius ventured. Narcissa's eyes snapped to his face and her mouth twisted.

"You can go get-" she started furiously, but winced again, and took a deep breath to calm herself, closing her eyes and probably internally counting to ten. Lucius waited patiently. Finally she reopened them and pulled her shirt off her shoulder to inspect the damage, grudgingly allowing Lucius to slide off his own horse and join her.

"Just a bruise," she said brusquely.

"Even so," Lucius said, drawing his wand. "Episkey." Immediately the bruised skin cleared. Narcissa flexed her shoulder tentatively and did not wince. She nodded curtly in thanks and swung herself onto Lucius' horse.

"You can ride the death horse back," she commanded.

"You're making a big fuss over nothing," Lucius singsonged, but he complied, and they rode back to the manor in silence, Lucius taking the back position and enjoying the sight of her bright blue panties through the tear in her skirt which she had, apparently, forgotten about.


	4. First Smile

-4- First Smile

She seemed to have forgiven him for the horse incident. That is, she seemed to despise him no more than she had before. Lucius took this as a good sign and was comparatively jolly as he clattered his way up to his rooms at the Manor; his father was insisting that he stay away from 'that London place of yours', and under his watchful eye. Lucius was not too complaining; as a matter of fact, he was enjoying getting decent meals served to him for once. He had tired of eating cold beans from a tin or dining in the Leaky Cauldron each night, and he could deal with giving his wannabe-Death Eater friends a bit of a berth for now. He was unsure why he was in such good spirits, and he sprawled across his bed to meditate on it, even being quite polite to an astounded Dobby instead of giving his usual curt reply and insult when he asked if 'Master Lucius is wanting any tea'.

After mulling over every single phrase and expression which they had exchanged earlier, Lucius decided that he was quite enjoying the challenge of having a woman who was not falling over herself to be with him. It was not often that anyone worth insulting was familiar enough with him to insult him back. He idly entertained the thought that he was warming to her, but the image of her nasty, thin-lipped smirk floated across his mind, and he quickly dismissed the thought with a shudder. A man wanted a soft, compliant little wife who would warm his slippers for him and turn a blind eye when his eye and possibly his body roved. He did not want a sharply-spoken witch who was encumbered with far more intelligence than was good for her and disobeyed and insulted him. If he looked at it in the short term, though, it was an interesting change to have a worthy adversary, particularly one who wore such eclectic but pleasing outfits.

The problem was, though, that he was beginning to respect her. Find himself respecting her and he might start liking her. If he started liking her he was in a great deal of trouble, because he was dead set against marrying her. The only thing to do was to break her spirit so that she would run crying to her father and leave him free for another few years so that he could continue uninterrupted with his lazy, corrupt lifestyle.

His father poked his head through the door an hour or two later to ask about the outing. Lucius took pleasure in telling him that Narcissa was an overambitious and scandalous horsewoman who had refused a saddle and ridden astride a horse with a skirt on so that he could see right the way up her legs. His father looked a little displeased at this apparent show of vulgarity, but promised – or more like threatened – his son with another little meeting with his future bride very soon. Lucius groaned theatrically but was secretly not as upset as he pretended to be. When he got a short owl from Abraxas the next morning – it was not every day his father bothered to actually see him – instructing him to meet Narcissa in Jupiter's Lounge for their first public outing, he was strangely on edge about it. He found his gusto fading a little at the prospect of being seen with her in public, because it put the whole thing on a more official scale.

Nevertheless he picked out a pale green shirt and charcoal dinner jacket along with a very expensive pair of grey jeans for the meeting. Jupiter's Lounge was an upper class haunt for semi-celebrities and the very rich, and required a smart dress code. He was taking a leaf out of Narcissa's book, however, and rebelling slightly by wearing a poser-ish outfit instead of more traditional wear in order to show her up a little, anticipating that she would do the same. He filled in the hours in between breakfast and seven with drawing careful pictures of Narcissa; falling off her horse; tripping over her torn skirt; looking annoyed with twigs in her hair. He toyed with the idea of giving her one, but kept them for future ammunition, should it be needed. He especially liked the one with the twigs; it was comically lifelike.

Arriving at the restaurant fifteen minutes late, he sauntered into the reception area and ordered a firewhiskey, asking the host suavely if his companion had arrived. The host nodded him into a corner, where a lilac-clad treat was waiting for him. Narcissa had truly outdone herself tonight, wearing a full-length purple silk ball gown, wide-skirted and encrusted with pearls, along with a green lace shrug and a black ribbon tied around her neck. Her hair was piled upon her head in a blonde mountain. She looked absolutely breathtaking – if it was a fancy-dress ball and she was dressing up as an eccentric countess. She carried the outfit off, as always, with a casual grace, oblivious to the curious looks she was getting from the other witches, uniformly clad in slinky black cocktail dresses or muted knee-high prom dresses.

"My dear Narcissa," Lucius smirked, quaking with laughter at her extravagant outfit. "I know how you feel about me, but to go to all this effort, really, it was not necessary. You know you are just as ravishing in a torn skirt and with leaves in your hair."

"Lucius," Narcissa purred. "You flatter me." He offered her his arm, and the two of them, with many eyes upon them, glided into the main dining area. Lucius thought how unfair it was that he felt underdressed when it was she who was ludicrously inappropriate for a restaurant dinner. He supposed, though, that this was her aim. The woman may be a cow, but she did have style, you had to credit her with it. They took their seats – right in the centre of the room – and opened their menus, not looking at each other. Lucius was the first to lower his, and he regarded his companion dispassionately.

She was perusing her menu as if it were an award-winning novel, a slight crease between her eyebrows, her lips pursed. She looked a lot older than eighteen with the seriousness of her expression, but her face, although thin and pale, had a youthful roundness to it. A few tendrils of her silvery blonde hair had escaped the elaborate design topping her head, and they framed her face nicely. Lucius had a fleeting moment of confusion, a strange feeling that he was playing a game with a live, fragile creature. He had a brief recollection of his youth, how he used to keep birds in a cage in the shed, used to pluck their pretty feathers off to look at closer, ignoring their cries of pain and outrage at this treatment. He felt uncomfortably as if this was what he was doing to Narcissa; plucking off her plumage and toying with her life. She glanced up and saw him watching her, and the moment dissolved with the narrowing of her eyes. No, she was more than a match. It was more like trying to steal a tail hair from a fully grown unicorn.

"Taking your time, dear?" he mocked. "It's just dinner, you know." Before she could respond the waiter, self-important and over-polite, came to stand at their table and asked for their orders. Narcissa got in first.

"We will take a bottle of finest champagne, and I will have the prawns as a starter," she trilled, giving the waiter a radiant and very snooty smile.

"Very good, madam," he smarmed. "And the gentleman?" He turned to Lucius, who quickly scanned the menu and chose the most complicated sounding name on the basis that it would sound impressive and that if it was that elaborate it must taste good. The waiter left, and to Lucius' surprise he saw Narcissa had a wide, genuine smile of amusement on her face.

"I am astonished, my dear Narcissa," Lucius said, diverted. "This is the first time I have ever seen you smile when it has not been at my expense. What is it that amuses you?" Narcissa shook her head, and the conversation turned to general, polite and non-controversial topics. Lucius found to his surprise that Narcissa was being rather cooperative, pleasant even. The discussion had turned to art, and Narcissa was telling Lucius, quite innocently, about sketching at a muggle aquarium and astonishing a few passers-by with the incredible movement in her sketch (she had used an animation spell on her pencils, of course.

As she finished her anecdote, the starters arrived, which was probably just as well because Lucius had been toying with making a mention of the Narcissa-falling-off-a-horse sketch he had made. Lucius watched as the snobbish waiter wafted Narcissa's artistically arranged prawns onto the table; it looked exquisite.

"Excuse me, is my order ready?" Lucius asked, when no second dish was forthcoming.

"One moment, sir," the waiter said complacently. Lucius peered behind the waiter and saw a large silver trolley with a platter and a covered bowl. He peered with curiosity as the waiter set down in front of him several odd-looking utensils, and did not peer up as a curious, muffled choking sound came from opposite him. His eyes were fixed bemusedly on the bowl, which was sailing unassisted to rest on the table in front of him.

"Bon appétit, sir," the waiter sang, and with a fussy little flourish, he drew the cover from the bowl. Lucius found himself peering in horrified fascination at several live, tiny octopuses. As he watched their lazy progress around the confines of the bowl, the waiter asked, as if from a long tunnel,

"Pepper, sir?"

It was an interesting sight to see. Lucius, entirely focused on the undulating contents of his bowl, slowly ripped his eyes away to stare blearily at the waiter, who was wielding a large pepper-grinder in his direction. At this interval, a spluttering sound from opposite him drew his attention, and in painfully slow motion Lucius turned his head. Narcissa was turning very pink in the face, and trying very hard not to snort into her napkin at the look on Lucius' face; of course she had realised what he had ordered and anticipated his reaction with glee. At the look of hurt comprehension on his face, she gave up her efforts at composure and veritably howled with laughter. Despite it being at his expense, again, Lucius found himself also overcome at her infectious peals and the ridiculousness of the situation. The scene closes with a confused waiter wavering at the side of a table containing two figures shaking with uncontrollable and inexplicable mirth, trying unobtrusively to see what is so funny.

**I kind of like the image of Lucius and Narcissa at the end here so I thought I'd put it in. Please register your own opinions by pressing the review button. I just know you want to x**


	5. First Kiss

-5- First Kiss

A week, three meetings and a Daily Prophet article colouring them as the wizarding world's newest hot couple, Narcissa and Lucius were getting on rather well. On the surface, anyway. Lucius found that, if he pushed the whole marriage business to the back of his mind, he had no great issue in spending time with Narcissa. She was witty, had a deliciously quirky and mischievous streak, and could hold a very interesting conversation – none of it about curtain samples. He was certain that she had accepted him as a fellow human being, now, too. She deigned to speak with him, limiting herself to only a few catty comments, and even seemed interested in his anecdotes about his escapades and his occasional monologues about art; he had presented her with the twig sketch in revenge for the octopus fiasco. Lucius was dimly aware that she mostly had it all her way, gaining the most pleasure whenever she gained one over him or managed to excel at something at his expense. This bothered him surprisingly little, however. He found himself, in fact, thinking that if he had to have a wife, maybe it would not be such a poor thing to have one with a decent brain. The word 'marriage' was a no-go area, though, because there was an unspoken understanding between them that they would cooperate with these interfering schemes of their parents up to a certain point, where they would take matters into their own hands. In their opinion, marriage was not a foregone conclusion.

Oddly, it was this shared opinion and understanding which brought them closer together. The delicate subject of their apparently impending nuptials was unwittingly brought up by Lucius' father one day while the couple were sitting in the grounds a little way from the manor. They had finished gathering sweet apples from the orchard, and whilst Narcissa was biting into her second piece of fruit, Lucius had taken out a piece of charcoal and a sketchpad and was trying to capture her fresh, careless pose. He noted with satisfaction that she had not relented in her unsuitable-clothing campaign, and was today in cowboy boots and leggings with an off-the shoulder, baggy purple jumper which had seen better days. She had used this to buff up the apples and it was on the grubby side. He marvelled that she still managed to look impeccably spotless and composed.

He was absorbed in catching the exact angle of her sharp chin, and did not notice his father's ambling approach until a shadow fell over his page. His father, who usually took no interest in his work, seemed very pleased with Lucius' occupation for once.

"Ah, magnificent," he beamed. "You two young people seem to have really taken a shine to each other. I believe your dear mother and father, Narcissa, have expressed a wish to meet your beau. I wonder if you two have arranged..." he trailed off hopefully.

"No, sir," Narcissa replied, her shadow of contentment departing and a slight stormcloud falling over her expression. "I expressed the desire that they should not be acquainted, actually."

"Ah, well, I'm sure you know best," said Abraxas, wilting visibly. He brightened up again in less than a second, however. "I suppose you want my boy all to yourself, eh?" he added hopefully.

"Indeed," said Narcissa archly. Lucius noted the reappearance of this irritatingly ambiguous word.

"Well, if you two are so absorbed in lover-ly activities, maybe we should arrange the introductions between us parents, eh?" said Abraxas. Before either of the 'lovers' could think of a plausible delaying tactic, Abraxas had meandered with surprising rapidity back to the manor, leaving an awkward silence between them. Narcissa broke it first.

"Look, Lucius," she said brusquely, meeting his gaze directly. "It's not that I don't like you. In fact you are not nearly as much of a donkey's arse as I thought you would be. Under any other circumstances I might even consider you as a friend. But I- its complicated. I can't marry you."

"Then why on earth are you in this ridiculous situation?" Lucius asked. "Why didn't you tell your parents flat out that you refuse my so-called offer?"

"For that matter why are you here?" Narcissa demanded. "You don't seem very keen on the idea unless you're a better liar than I thought. And for your information, I told my parents they could certainly meet my fiancé, when I found one myself. I do not appreciate being used as a chess piece. Every Black must follow their own path."

"Well," began Lucius, trying to ignore the bad liar and donkey comments. "I don't mind talking with you, but I would rather not marry just yet, if ever. I suppose it's just a course of least resistance to go along with it, keep my father happy, you know. I was just biding my time until he came to his senses or something."

"Oh good," Narcissa breathed, then, at Lucius' look, elaborated. "I was worried that you wanted to go through with it. I mean, it's easier if you don't want to, either. Kind of puts us on the same team, so to speak." Lucius was absurdly pleased with this vote of confidence, despite the prick of ego that she did not want to marry him.

"Do I have to meet your parents, then?" Lucius asked.

"Oh yes," Narcissa smiled evilly. "In fact, if you want, we can get a bit of revenge on them. What do you say to stringing them along and playing Mr and Mrs, then ducking out on them at the last moment and leave them looking like the fools they are?"

"You mean-" Lucius began, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Leave _them _standing at the altar," Narcissa finished, her grin of mischief mirroring his. "A just dessert, don't you think?"

"Indeed," Lucius agreed. Then he paused. "You know," he began, a furtive look stealing over his face.

"Yes?" asked Narcissa as he hesitated.

"If we're agreed, no marriage and all that," he continued.

"Mmm hmm," Narcissa prompted.

"You are actually incredibly hot when you scheme," Lucius admitted. Narcissa went half-way to outraged, paused at embarrassed to pick up a faint blush, and stopped at rather pleased.

"You're not unattractive yourself," she conceded. Lucius grinned shiftily, and moved his hand to push a lock of hair behind her ear. Her gaze moved to his, and, her eyes inviting him, he moved in until his lips met hers, soft and warm. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was one of the most enjoyable kisses Lucius had ever experienced. From the look on her face, Narcissa's mind was similarly occupied.


	6. First Date

-6- First Date

The meeting with the parents had gone off without a hitch. Mr and Mrs Black were delighted with the courteous and easy manner of Lucius, and were particularly pleased with the seemingly altered attitude of their daughter, who seemed to be far warmer towards her future husband than before. The two of them had, several times throughout dinner, exchanged secret smiles and glances which suggested a bond between the two. Mrs Black had been in raptures as Lucius had commented that her appearance and tastes were akin to her daughter's (she had not noticed Narcissa's little cough, or the red silk pantaloons protruding from the hem of Narcissa's dress) and Mr Black had been delighted when Lucius had mentioned hunting, one of his favourite pursuits, and had monopolised the conversation for the next fifteen minutes with a description of the last hunting party he had hosted, cordially inviting his future son in law to attend the next. Neither of the Blacks noticed the little wink that Lucius gave Narcissa as he introduced the topic.

It was a month into Narcissa and Lucius' acquaintance, and they had settled into playing happy couples admirably. Lucius was tiring, however, of his father continuing to arrange meetings for them. He felt it was time to take matters into his own hands.

"As much as I appreciate your concern, father," he said one morning as his father suggested taking Narcissa to the opera that evening, "I believe that as two adults Narcissa and I are perfectly capable of deciding for ourselves when and where we meet." His father looked taken aback for a second, then smiled indulgently.

"Ah, of course, of course," he boomed. "Young love cannot be fenced in."

"Indeed," Lucius smiled thinly. He was not sure what gave his father the impression that he and Narcissa were the instigators of the relationship. Maybe it just made him feel better about this whole farce to believe that. In fact, what Lucius had in mind complied with this view rather well, in appearance at least; it would be a perfectly innocent, and, more importantly, anonymous outing. He wanted to spend a little time with Narcissa somewhere out of the public eye, including his father's eyes, so that they could relax and not have to worry about acting the part. He was, as always, surprised at how much he enjoyed her company. Anyway, his plan had an ulterior motive; to finally have superior ground over Narcissa, who was, in Lucius' opinion, a good deal too talented for her own (or his) good. Besides which, he had resumed contact with his less reputable friends, and did not want his father's plans interfering with his own. Foremost on his mind, though, was his very first consenting date with his not-to-be bride.

"Cycling?" asked Narcissa as they headed for the ground limits of the manor. "What's that?"

"It's a muggle thing," Lucius explained. "But it's great fun," he added as Narcissa's eyes narrowed; she was not keen on anything muggle-related, which was precisely why Lucius had chosen this – it was something she was bound to be unfamiliar with, and, therefore, bad at. He loved it when he was better at something, she let it happen so rarely.

"As long as you know I'm only coming because- actually, I don't really know why I'm coming," Narcissa said, shaking her head. Lucius grinned aggravatingly.

"Because we're partners in crime," he suggested. Narcissa considered this.

"Alright, then," she conceded.

They reached the edge of the grounds, and Lucius apparated them to a rugged but pleasant piece of countryside where he knew a decent bike rental. He had learnt to ride a bike at the age of six, when his mother had insisted that he learn to control a vehicle on the ground before he could get his own broom, and had taken him to this very spot to learn. Lucius had never bothered to consider why Morgana Selwyn, a proud pureblooded witch, had known how to ride an anachronistic and faintly ridiculous muggle contraption. As Narcissa set her eyes upon the twisted metal spokes and frames and the small leather seat, she did not appear to be particularly enthused.

"What is that?" she asked dryly, gesturing one lace-gloved hand towards a particularly spindly specimen.

"That is a bicycle," Lucius informed her proudly.

"And what do you do with it?" Narcissa asked, trepidation clear in her voice.

"All in good time," Lucius smiled mysteriously at her. She was wearing white elbow-length fingerless lace gloves today, and a pair of culottes. He got the impression that she did it just for him, and this thought rather pleased him.

He paid for two bike rentals, and wheeled them out onto the dirt path. Narcissa's face was a picture of scepticism.

"Watch and learn," Lucius grinned condescendingly. He swung himself onto his bike and performed a couple of figure-of-eights around Narcissa, who watched stony-faced, her lip twitching only slightly at the sight of the lithe, athletic Lucius perched on a metal stick with wheels.

"You want to try?" he invited once he had pulled to a stop next to her. "Come on," he said, noting her reluctance. He led her over and balanced her gingerly on her own machine, where she sat patiently, as if waiting for something to happen.

"Now may be the moment to confess that I cannot ride a broomstick," Narcissa said, her voice tainted with nerves.

"Never fear, Narcissa my dear," Lucius sinsonged. "For I have a wand." He withdrew said object from his jeans and muttered a locomotor spell. Narcissa's bike began to move, and her eyes widened in panic. She grabbed his shirt in an effort to remain stationary.

"No, Lucius, please. You win, you win," she babbled.

"Just move the pedals with your feet and hold onto the handlebars," he laughed, easing out of her grip and riding parallel to her faulty progress.

"Make it stop," she shrieked as they approached a slight dip and the bikes accelerated. "I'll do anything."

"Even marry me, my dear Narcissa?" Lucius mocked; he was enjoying having the upper hand for once. Narcissa tried to scowl at him but the bike wobbled as she turned her head, so instead she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed shrilly as the bike sped down the hill. Lucius' laugh boomed out behind her.

**Mwahaha, that was fun. Things get a bit more serious for a while now, though. Please leave a review.**


	7. First Shock

-7- First Shock

After being thoroughly scolded for the bicycle incident – during which he pointed out that he had eaten octopus for wont of a tip-off from her and that he was only trying to be nice (which wasn't entirely true) he was forgiven, and the couple parted on relatively peaceful terms. Lucius was due to cook her dinner at his flat in a few days' time, something which his father vetoed, but which Lucius overruled. He was tired of having his every move watched, and had decided to return to London, where he was also due for a meeting with his Death Eater-supporting friends tonight.

Lucius was not actually a fully-fledged Death Eater just yet, but he attended occasional, erratic meetings held by a masked and cloaked figure who called himself the Lieutenant, where he and his friends were lectured on the merits of the Dark Lord's views, and on the pure blood doctrine which they had all been fed with their mother's milk. The Lieutenant had promised them that once they had proved their worth they would be enveloped into the ranks of the Dark Lord's army. Lucius had been out of the loop for a few weeks – as they attended meetings also masked, the Lieutenant would hopefully not have marked the absence – but he was keen to catch up on the news; he did not want to be left behind when his friends received their dark marks. It was about family pride, and if a Malfoy was not been seen to be in the thick of the pureblood movement, his reputation would suffer accordingly in certain secret but important circles. He had let his issues with Narcissa get in the way for long enough; now it was time to put his priorities back into order.

As always, Lucius slipped on his black velvet mask and cloak, and apparated to three random destinations before going to the chosen meeting place. Once there, he would need his wand as identification, but his name and face would remain concealed. The meeting location was different every time, as was the time of the meeting. This was so that it would remain secret, and only the initiated could come. Today's meeting was in the evening, at nine in an abandoned warehouse outside of Ottery St Catchpole. The Lieutenant had charmed each of the members' wands to emit these details an hour before any meeting was set to take place, promising a more subtle and effective means of communication once they became ready to be a part of the Death Eaters.

His wand was checked at the door by another cloaked and masked figure, and he was ushered inside, where half a dozen figures already stood in a semicircle. Usually about ten people attended, and Lucius knew the names of at least five of these. He made sure that only a select few were aware of his identity; it did not do for too many people to know of his movements. If he were to end up marrying Narcissa, he would have to somehow ensure that she was kept in the dark.

"Hail, brothers," the Lieutenant said imperiously. The room fell silent and the nine people making up the audience turned to the imposing figure in the centre, his dark mark raised aloft.

"Hail to the Dark Lord," they chorused.

"I wonder," the Lieutenant hissed. "I have noticed that some of you are becoming less religious in your attendance than I would like. I wonder if you are really committed, or if this is an out of hours club to you." A chill ran around the room, and murmurs of denial could be heard. "It is time for those of you who are truly committed to serving the Dark Lord to come forward, to prove yourselves, to show your loyalty and to be admitted to the ranks if you prove worthy. Those of you who do not have the courage or the vision to take this honour and endure the trials may leave; you will be unharmed. But there is only one chance. I invite you to step forward if you are willing to take it."

Lucius thanked his lucky stars that he had not missed this meeting. This was what he had been waiting for. Without hesitation he stepped forward, along with six others. This left two figures, uncertain and hesitant, who had decided to opt out.

"Only seven of you," the Lieutenant whispered icily. "Only seven of you want the honour of sitting at the right hand of the most powerful wizard in the world. Only seven of you want to be part of the noble cleansing of our world. A shame. A great shame. I wonder how many of those seven will succeed." The two figures who had remained where they stood edged towards the door. "The Dark Lord does not let just anyone into his service. Each of you here must prove your skill, your loyalty, and your willingness to obey His orders. Who will volunteer to be the first?"

Every figure in the room, including the two trying inconspicuously to make themselves scarce, suddenly stood stock still. Nobody volunteered. Minutes passed.

"Dear dear," the Lieutenant chided. "Will nobody go first? Still, I suppose it shows a sense of self preservation at the very least." Everyone shuddered at the implications. "Very well, you shall be the first." He indicated a figure towards the right of the room, who started at the sudden attention upon him.

"Incarcerus," the Lieutenant yelled suddenly, making everyone jump. Ropes shot out of his wand, which was pointed behind him, and the two who had refused to join fell to the floor, whimpering in fear. They were bound with thick ropes; vulnerable.

"Now," the Lieutenant said smoothly. "We will see what you are made of. I presume you are familiar with the Cruciatus?" Several people flinched, others nodded. Lucius did nothing, calculating. "Excellent. Now you will witness what we do to traitors to the cause. Absolute loyalty is imperative to be a Death Eater. You there. I want you to perform the curse on these traitors." He gestured to the man he had picked out before. He walked to the front, standing over the prone, pleading forms.

"Crucio," he croaked. In ten seconds, the screams had faded.

"Good, very good," the Lieutenant mused. "Now stand behind me. You will be initiated." The man sagged a little with relief, and stood to watch; he looked slightly wobbly on his legs.

Who is next?" Another man stepped forward; Lucius recognised McNair's dominant gait. "Do the other one," the Lieutenant commanded.

The third member was a woman, as was the fourth. The fifth and sixth were both male, and the sixth failed to perform the curse satisfactorily, but managed after the Lieutenant performed it on him himself. This left Lucius, standing alone on the side of the room, all eyes upon him.

"Well?" the Lieutenant said expectantly as Lucius did not move. "Are you ready to prove your loyalty, or do you wish for the same fate?" It was Lucius' moment. He took a deep breath, hoping his gamble would pay off.

"Lieutenant," he addressed the man with a confidence he did not entirely feel. "If I curse these men again, they will not recover. A human body can only endure so much."

"I see," said the Lieutenant coldly. What, then, do you propose to do?"

"If you wish to prevent these men from seeking to divulge information on this organisation, I could perform a memory charm, but this could be broken by a powerful wizard," Lucius said, then paused. The room was very quiet.

"It could," the Lieutenant agreed casually. "Go on."

"If you wished, these men could be tortured into insanity, but this would be dangerous; it could reveal too much of what has happened here."

"It could," the Lieutenant allowed, his voice calm. "Go on."

"If you want these men dealt with neatly," Lucius said, mouth dry, "I suggest Avada Kedavra."

"Do you?" the Lieutenant mused softly. He paused, and the room was on tenterhooks for his response. "Very good." The room released a breath. "Would you like to, or shall I?" he offered. Lucius, sensing another test, spoke carefully.

"It would be my honour to, Lieutenant, but it is not my place to rob you of the privilege of your rank." The Lieutenant looked as faintly impressed as a mask can, and replied.

"Very good." With this softly spoken word, he turned on the two quaking bodies. "Avada Kedavra," he roared. A flash of green light blinded the company, and then it was gone.

"Now," the Lieutenant went on as if no murder had just been performed. "Each of you will remove your hoods and receive your reward; a place in the ranks of the Dark Lord. And you," he turned to Lucius, who was a little shaken but mostly relieved, "shall be awarded a greater superiority than your peers for your astuteness. You are not mindless slaves, and you are encouraged to use your own common sense. The Dark Lord rewards success."

The crowd murmured in admiration and pleasure. One by one, the hoods were removed. Lucius nodded as he saw McNair, Nott, Goyle. His eyebrow raise slightly as a man he recognised as Evan Rosier, several years older than he and a Ministry official, lifted his hood. The two women were still masked, as was he. He withdrew his own hood, and they both gasped. A slow hand pulled the mask from the first woman's head, and Bellatrix Black shook her dark hair over her shoulders, looking daggers at Lucius. Lucius' heart flipped, but his eyes immediately went to the last hooded figure. With shaking fingers, she took hold of the folds of her hood, then glanced at the woman next to her. Then, she pulled off her own mask. Her face was streaked with tears, but her look was defiant. It was, as Lucius had realised moments before, none other than his so-called future bride, Narcissa Black. Her eyes locked on Lucius' own.

**Please tell me what you think x**


	8. First Doubt

**Thank you so much for all the shiny reviews I got for the last chapter, they made me really happy. I hope you enjoy this mext instalment...**

-8- First Doubt

Lucius read in her eyes surprise and a little trepidation, but no censure, no reproach. He was utterly astounded that she of all people was in on this scene, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense.

"_It's complicated. I can't marry you."_

"_Every Black must follow their own road."_

She was a Black, and sister to Bellatrix, one of the most devious and evil people Lucius had ever met. Of course she was a part of it. He had been arrogant and stupid to think that he was the only pureblood obliged to maintain their way of life, to improve standards. She had all the same reasons as him for being there. And she, like him, did not want to marry a person who she would have to hide from. Did this change anything between them? Lucius did not yet know. It was his turn to step to the front. He did not wince as the Lieutenant's wand seared a burning mark onto his forearm. He was in. A Death Eater. And three minutes later so was Narcissa, her face impassive but still streaked with tears. Bellatrix had been the first to receive the mark, for her Cruciatus had been powerful and effective, and she too was due special honours. She sent several scathing looks in Lucius' direction throughout the ceremony.

The company was dismissed, with the promise that next time, they would be summoned by way of the mark on their arm, and that they would meet others already in the Dark Lord's service and take part in a minor mission. Each disapparated, as usual, from a fixed point. Before Narcissa could reach it, Lucius grabbed her arm. She turned towards him.

"Later Lucius. Tomorrow," she told him, gently but firmly, her eyes darting to her scowling sister, just behind her. He nodded mutely and let her go.

"Bellatrix," he nodded as she shot him a venomous look. She apparated without replying. Lucius followed suit. It was half ten, too late to go anywhere. He returned to his flat and began to pace. He thought. He wondered. He had been foolish to assume Narcissa was oblivious to everything going on around them. At Hogwarts, he and Bella had practically led the pro-Dark Lord movement, had been at the head of it. Black and Malfoy were two names which commanded respect, which still represented ancient wizarding tradition. It was shockingly negligent of him not to link Narcissa to this. He had even met her family, seen what sort of people they were. It was his own stupidity. He saw Narcissa as so pure, so unique, that he never in his mind compared her to Bellatrix, to her visceral enjoyment of pain, or her passionate defence of pureness of blood. A part of his mind still could not reconcile the two as sisters – it could not reconcile the image of Narcissa the Death Eater with the Narcissa he knew; pure, sweet and chilly as fresh pumpkin juice, beautiful as the moon. He wondered why his image of her had altered; it was not as if she was doing anything he wasn't. If anything, it was convenient. He shook his head, trying to settle all the information careering round his head into position. Maybe sleep would do it for him. Maybe, when he saw her again, he would know.

The next morning he was tense and excited, and his mind, as he had hoped, was clearer and more resolved. He was waiting with baited breath for his dinner with Narcissa, unsure how he would be received and hoping that their mutual Death Eater activities would serve to bring them closer rather than to keep them apart. It was not as if he had lied to her any more than she had to him, he reasoned, and it was not as if either had yet made the other any promises. He realised with a jolt how much he cared, how much he wanted to appear good in her eyes. As arranged, he met Narcissa at seven in Clementine's, another high-class restaurant. She was wearing black from head to toe, black turtleneck, black jeans and high-heeled black knee-high boots, with a black rose in her hair. She looked stunning and dramatic.

He greeted her with a tentative smile, but her expression was bland, impassive. She did not smile, and he kept the talk trivial as they ordered, afraid of bringing up what was on both of their minds. Narcissa was distracted, and when he accidentally brushed her hand as he picked up his wine glass, she pulled it away as if he had burned her. The food arrived, and Narcissa merely toyed with her swordfish salad. Lucius tried desperately to engage her in conversation, but to his horror, he saw a tear slide down her face. Looking around and finding their table fairly remote, he leaned across and whispered urgently.

"Narcissa, please. Tell me what's wrong," he implored. She shook her head and a few more tears seeped out.

"I'm fine. Maybe we should just leave."

"Do you feel ill? Don't you want to see me anymore?" Lucius pursued.

"I don't know. Leave me be," Narcissa said, voice shaking.

"Narcissa, what is it? Is it because of last night? Look, I know I kept it from you, and I'm sorry I had to, but you must know how it is. Did I upset you? Please, tell me?"

"It's not that," Narcissa choked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Although I didn't expect- I- , all right, it's just- Bellatrix told me that-"

"Bellatrix?" Lucius demanded sharply, and Narcissa flinched. "What did she say?"

"She told me- awful things," Narcissa gasped, more tears seeping from her eyes. Lucius passed her his handkerchief. "She told me you used to- I mean, I know the two of you used to date, I was in your House, but the things she said about you, about both of you." She tailed off, shaking her head.

"What did she tell you?" Lucius asked urgently. "Look, Narcissa, I know she's your sister but you must know that she can be vicious. We ended badly, I can't deny it, but she's trying to poison you against me. She is so proud, so jealous, I'd bet my wand she was lying because I gained higher rank than she did. She doesn't like to come in second."

"I know, I know, but the things she said. I can't get them out of my mind," Narcissa cried. "And after seeing you last night – I can't just discard them like I would have. I've never seen that side of you before, Lucius. I've never seen you hurt anyone. I hated it, what we had to do. Bella practically forced me to come. I mean, I'll do it, I believe, but it's against my- but you, you seemed to be so cold, so merciless. They were people, and you signed their death warrants."

"They were traitors," Lucius said desperately. "They would have been killed anyway; I was just telling him what he already knew. I would never hurt anybody unless it was necessary."

"What about Bella? She told me, when you got angry, when you drank too much, you cut her. She showed me the scar. She told me what you did to her, that you cheated, that you threatened her." Narcissa's voice broke.

"Did Bella forget to mention that she attacked me first and that I was defending myself? That she cheated on me? I may not have acted admirably, but I can assure you your sister was never the injured party." Lucius' voice became hard, unforgiving, as he remembered Bella's passionate but volatile, often violent nature. Their physical relationship had been intense, and often quite sadistic; the girl had been psychotic. It had been a huge turn on at first but soon Lucius had had enough. He hated to admit it, but the relationship had not ended until Bella had wanted it to. Narcissa was not aware of this, though. Nor could he explain.

"And would you hurt me, Lucius? For the greater good?" Narcissa asked, her voice quiet but distinct, her tears drying on her cheeks. "If the Dark Lord asked, would you put him first? How can I trust you when I know what you are capable of?"

"Narcissa, I promise you, I would never lay a finger on you unless I had your consent. If I can do anything to prove that I will. Just tell me. I'm so sorry." Narcissa shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry, Lucius. I need some time. I can't just accept all this just like that. I can't be in a relationship when I have so many doubts." She rose regretfully and left the restaurant, leaving Lucius alone, his head reeling. Is that what they had had? A relationship? Why did the thought send such a painful sensation of loss searing through his heart? He wanted her to like him, maybe even more. He wanted to be with her. What could he do to win her back? He looked up to see dozens of curious eyes on him, and decided it was time to go. He shoved a fistful of galleons on the table and went out of the door Narcissa had used just minutes ago, her slim silhouette wreathed in soft candlelight, her hand clutching his tear-drenched handkerchief.


	9. First Love

**Sorry for the delay, I've had issues with document manager but I finally got the upper hand, mwahaha. This is a bit of a gloomy chapter, not my personal favourite and comes with a warning of some sexual and violent references. I promise good things to follow, though, so enjoy.**

-9- First Love

Lucius was furious with himself as he let himself into his flat. Furious that only now that he had probably lost it forever did he realise what he had had. When Bella had finished with him, although it had stung, been painful and messy, he had felt a huge sense of relief and freedom. Now that he was pretty much free from this enforced relationship with Narcissa, he should be feeling glad, well shot of her. He should be feeling triumphant that finally he had had the upper hand, proved how cunning and powerful he was. Instead, a pain in his chest wracked his body, and he realised with searing clarity that in fact he wanted to be with her. Hells, he was probably in love with her. Why was life so perverse? Bella had been a toxic thing, the other girls he had had meaningless and after a while, an irritation. Narcissa had been a challenge, someone who interested him. Then she had been a friend, somebody he enjoyed spending time with and who had a similar instinct for cunning at trickery and a wicked sense of humour. At what point had she become the girl he wanted to spend his life with, and where had the part of his brain which ought to have pointed this out to him been?

Being Lucius Malfoy, though, he did not blame himself for long. Soon, his mind became more and more focused on Bella. She was the problem here. She had done this. It pained him to think that she had been in control in their relationship, but there was no doubt that she had given him a run for his money. When he had asked her out at the end of sixth year, it had been after months of heavy hints and flirtation from her. Could any man have resisted the look-but-don't-touch provocation he had been through, being forced to watch her sway past him, sensuous smirk on her lips, the it's-yours-to-take suggestion in her behaviour, always being nearby whatever he was doing? He couldn't, not for long, anyway. He had thought himself the luckiest guy in Hogwarts to have Bella Black on a plate. He had fallen for her seduction and he had gone along with most of her twisted ideas and games. He remembered losing his virginity to her at the start of seventh year. He had been awed by her, had told her he loved her. She had laughed cruelly and told him to go find someone who cared.

"_If I'd wanted love, Lucius, I could have had any devoted little fool in the castle. It's just good business, you and me. Don't forget to see it that way or I shall get very tired of you."_

He should have thrown it all in then, but she was intoxicating, fascinating. The night she had held a knife to his throat and asked him to make love to her, he had complied. When she had sliced across his back he had not rolled away from her as he should have, but had grabbed the knife and cut her back until she moaned. He had not chosen to hurt her, to put them both through such agony. She had done that herself, and he had just been to enamoured to refuse. He remembered the one time he had tried to reason with her. It just could not be done, did Narcissa not understand this?

_It was Easter term of Lucius' seventh year. Although he was still very ostentatiously with Bella, he was beginning to see her without his rose coloured glasses. After over eight months of dating, the thrill of taking her in all sorts of shocking and unconventional positions and places was wearing off, and the high of indulging her sadistic whims was palling. He was beginning to frown instead of laugh whenever she attacked a student in the hallway on a whim. He was jealous and suspicious whenever she flirted with another guy rather than pitying the poor sap who fell for her charms; gone was the easy confidence with which he claimed her as his. Her constant mood swings and vicious tendencies were spiralling out of control, and he was more often faced with a thundering argument than a loving, willing woman or exciting conversation nowadays. Conversation had turned to lectures, fanatical rants about the Dark Lord. While Lucius agreed, he wanted to talk about other things, too, and Bella often started arguments, accusing him of disloyalty or hypocrisy. Besides, there was a very pretty little fifth year who had been making eyes at him, so he decided to end it between them._

_She had not taken it well. After screaming and throwing things, accusing him of cheating, threatening to kill herself or to kill him, to poison every aspect of his life, she had taken out her wand and begun hurling more than just knick knacks at him. Then, she had turned calm, sauntered up to him, smiling and swaying her hips. He felt an involuntary shiver pass through him as she pressed herself up against him; she knew every way to make him squirm, and she knew he knew. She could be very persuasive when she wanted, and Lucius knew that he was trapped until she saw fit to release him. _

_The relationship had turned sour, though. They were making each other monumentally miserable. Each resented the company of the other, and Bella's wild flirting and physical unavailability finally drove Lucius to find solace in Dixie Bell behind Bella's back. When she found out, as of course she did, she screamed and hexed again, and their row emptied the entire Common Room in less than five minutes. Of course, it had ended in an acrobatic bedroom session, along with Lucius' vow of fidelity, but it had not ended there. She was always suspicious now, and often threatened and blackmailed him. Both of them took their viciousness out on each other, and that summer Lucius took to staying out late drinking, which only made him more vocal and physical in his resentment. Subconsciously he knew that Bella had the upper hand, so it gave him immense pleasure to treat her roughly, make her scream in pain and pleasure both. _

_It was only in August that Bella and Lucius finally, painfully, finished their relationship. At dinner with Bella at the Manor one night, Abraxas had blithely asked when he would see a ring on Bella's finger. She had smiled sweetly and told him that she had no intention of marrying Lucius. Although the conversation had gone no further then, once in bed, Lucius had let it rip, berating her for putting him on the spot and humiliating him in front of his father. Bella in turn had insulted him, telling him how worthless and cowardly he was, that she had plenty of offers and she did not know why she was still wasting her time with him. They parted once and for all, bitterly, with the warning that Lucius was to stay away from her and her affairs from now on. _

Lucius had only afterwards come to realise that Bellatrix had used him shamelessly, and his pride rankled. Not only had she toyed with him and made his life a living hell for over a year, but she still could not let go, years on, even though he had heard she had married one of the Lestrange brothers. Now she was cashing in on that travesty of a relationship to keep him from happiness with her sister. How dare she, how dare she meddle in his affairs any longer? She may have been his first love but it was a twisted, bitter, stunted thing. With Narcissa, she brought out his humour, his sense of competition, his desire to protect and to impress. She made him a man where her sister had tried to emasculate him, dominate him. Yes, it was Bella's fault, but Lucius would not let her come between them any longer. He would prove that she was second best. And it would start with him winning Narcissa back. He thought he had just the way.

As he drifted to sleep an ironical thought occurred to him; why was it always the Black women who managed to twist his life around? All he needed now was to bump into Andromeda and complete the set.


	10. First Gift

**As ever thank you all for your reviews, and now here is a nice fluffy chapter for you, with the promise of more action and humour to follow...**

-10- First Gift

Lucius did not want to leave Narcissa to stew in her own juices and think that he did not care, but no more did he want to irritate her by contacting her when she wanted to be alone. After hours of agonising he finally sent an owl to her telling her that he would be waiting for her call but to take all the time she needed to work things out. He felt that this hit just the right note between caring and aloof, understanding and needy. In the meantime, however, he had no intention of just sitting around and waiting with baited breath for her to give him the thumbs up. He was determined that he would have her no matter what, and he had several contingency plans.

Plan number one was the one he hoped he would not have to put into practice, because it would mean collaborating with his father and her parents and forcing her hand. He was quite willing to stoop to this if it was the only way, telling his father that she refused to honour the agreement and that he and the Blacks must force her to go through with it, but it humiliated his sense of pride to have to admit that he could not get her under his own steam or on his own merits. Besides which, he was still hoping that the interfering parental parties could get a taste of their own medicine, so he did not want to start going along with their plans. No, plan number one was a back-up. He had a few other ideas which were more his style. If they failed, well... they wouldn't.

Plan number two was probably his most dastardly one, but it was much truer to nature and also much more satisfying to carry out. His resentment towards Bellatrix was a burning red anger, and it was well mixed with a desire for revenge. It would be sweet, now he had the power and the motive, to get a little pay-back on her and make sure she no longer interfered with his life, or her sister's choices. It would be a small matter to get her into a position where she had little choice but to do as he said. Blackmail was, to him, a beautiful word which danced across his lips. To have Bellatrix doing his bidding would be a sweet tonic to his wounded ego, and she was in a prime position to encourage her sister to come back to Lucius. It would be risky, though. Bellatrix was like a living flame, twisty and impossible to control, and he was likely to get his fingers burnt trying.

Plan number three was similar to plan number two. It was also a possibility that he could blackmail Narcissa herself into coming back to him. Lucius found himself shying away from this option, though. Whenever he thought of it, an image of her tearstained face and her question, 'would you hurt me, Lucius, for the greater good?' repeated itself in his head. It made him feel faintly sick in his stomach, her accusing glance, and he felt angry that this girl should have such an effect on him, that he should crave her good opinion so. He had also not forgotten that she was Bella's sister, and that he would be a fool to underestimate her. And Lucius was no fool.

Plan number four was his favourite, the one he would try first, and the one he hoped would work out as he wanted. Lucius Malfoy was nothing if he was not cunning, and part of this cunning was knowing instinctively how he could get through a situation. He knew exactly how to impress a person, and with a little thought, he had come up with a very likely option to try and win Narcissa over. Of course, it did not hurt that he had known numerous women, and sweet-talking came naturally to him now as worming his way out of trouble. Narcissa was unsure of him because she did not trust him, did not see him as the same person as before. All he had to do, hopefully, was to make her see him as that person again, and make her keep on seeing that this time his intentions were sincere. He had an idea, and all he needed now was the opportunity to carry it out.

That opportunity came sooner than he had expected. Only two days later Narcissa owled him to let him know that she was prepared to accept a visit from him that afternoon. Lucius smiled to himself as he quilled the acceptance. It was the perfect chance.

He was allowed in by a House Elf, who showed him up to the drawing room of the Black House, which was large and spacious, gloomier than the Malfoy Manor and less modern and elegant in its furnishings, favouring old-fashioned opulence and dark, carved wood where the Malfoys had shining white marble and many windows. The drawing room, however, was obviously Narcissa's personal room, because she had stamped her personality on it like a Hippogriff on a flobberworm; very decisively. There were elegant, feminine fabrics draped over the walls, disguising the mahogany panelling which gave the rest of the house such a severe feel. Instead of the austere portraits which had gazed down disparagingly from the hallway, she had a painting of a wild stallion which whinnied and tossed its mane as it galloped around a wide meadow. She also had up a photograph of her and several other people who must be her friends, another blonde smaller and less beautiful than she was, a crop-haired youth who was roaring with laughter and who was very handsome, and two girls who looked like twins, with copper-brown hair and beady eyes. Lucius' eyes were captured, however, by the young, slim Narcissa, a secret smile on her face strongly reminiscent of the Mona Lisa. The rest of the room had a tall bookshelf which was decorated with a little crystal statue of a unicorn and was full of an eclectic assortment of books, a comfortable-looking sofa, a desk and chair and an easel. The obviously Narcissa aspect of the room was difficult to lay a finger on, but it was nevertheless unmistakeably her.

Also unmistakeably her was the slender figure curled up on the sofa wearing blazing pink legwarmers and an oversized sweater. Her eyes swung up to meet his and his stomach gave an odd lurch.

"Lucius," she greeted coolly as the House Elf melted unobtrusively out of the room.

"Narcissa," Lucius replied. There was a long stretch of silence. Lucius broke it; he got the impression that Narcissa was waiting for him to speak.

"Narcissa," he began again. "I've been thinking about what you said, about what I am. I don't know exactly what impression you got from your dear sister, but I can assure you that I am not a violent or an unreasonable man. I was bewitched by her, and I'm sure I was not the first or the last, and I was a fool, but in the end I came to my senses. The relationship fell apart because your sister was just too difficult to live with, too demanding, as I'm sure you will agree. She was volatile, and I am not one to lie down and take things from people. It- my history with her, it doesn't look good, especially after what you saw at the meeting, but I've been wracking my brains for a way to make it up to you, a way to prove myself to you, and if you'll give me the chance, I think I know how." He paused, looking to see her reaction. She was looking intently at him, her face neutral, calculating even. She gestured for him to continue. Lucius took this moment to remove a small box from his pocket. He placed it in the palm of his hand and held it out to her. Curious, she took it, her teal-painted fingernails curling around the contours.

"What gift could you give which could possibly buy you my trust?" Narcissa asked lightly, her voice casual.

"This is a promise ring," Lucius said as she pushed up the lid to reveal an ornate silver ring with seven diamonds embedded in it around the edge. "It's a deeply magical object, and very rare. The giver makes a promise to the receiver, and if he breaks that promise, then the diamonds will dull or even break. See there? Each diamond glows from within," he took her hand, which was holding the ring, in his, and gently moved it so that she was fingering the jewels; a soft light played against her fingers. "Will you accept this ring with a promise, Narcissa?"

Narcissa, whose eyes had been fixed on the beautiful ring, looked at Lucius' sincere expression, her eyes softened, but her lips, as ever, quirked into an ironical smile.

"I never took you for a romantic, Lucius," she teased.

"I never thought I could find a woman who would make me so," Lucius admitted. "But it seems even I am wrong sometimes, especially, irritatingly enough, where it comes to you."

"Lucius," she whispered gently. It was one word, not an acceptance, but filled with such tender affection that Lucius was heartened. He gently took the ring and slid it onto her engagement finger.

"I, Lucius Quintus Malfoy, do promise you, Narcissa Fedora Black, that for as long as we two do share a common bond of love and friendship, I will place you above all others and that I will never intentionally do anything to harm or upset you. If ever I do, may this ring tell of my failure to honour my vow." As he spoke, softly yet commandingly, the ring glowed bright, and the magic was sealed. Narcissa's face was alight with joy. As Lucius finished, she withdrew her hand from his and cupped it against his cheek.

"My Lucius," she whispered. "You are the sweetest and most wonderful man, and you continue to surprise me. What Bellatrix said about you – I knew that you were not the man she said you were. You did not need to go to such trouble. But thank you. It's beautiful." Lucius positively beamed. "I thought things could not get any more surprising when you showed me how to ride a muggle rod with wheels, but it seems I, too, am always wrong when it comes to you."

"Only for you will I admit that I am ever wrong, and for a Malfoy, that is as good as a confession of love. But I will give you both," he told her. "I love you." Narcissa's face, if it was possible, lit up even more, and any trace of teasing was for the moment erased.

"I love you too," she told him. They embraced, passionately and tenderly, their fingers entwining and the promise ring glittering on Narcissa's hand. Lucius, Slytherin as ever, had ensured that the promise stipulated that he must not upset her only as long as they were in love, but to him this was just good sense, and he was sure Narcissa understood; she was not a fool and was sure to have fully grasped his wording. It was no less sincere for this. It was a gift which bound them together, and Lucius could not have been happier about it.


	11. First Mission

**Here is the promised action, I do hope you enjoy it. I've been writing like a crazy person and I'm incredibly excited about where the story is going. Please review with compliments, comments or criticisms xx**

-11- First Mission

It was a few days after the gift. Lucius was lounging on the patio, glass of chilled butterbeer in one hand, the other draped around Narcissa's shoulder as she nestled against his chest. He was practically purring with contentment; the cherry on the cauldron cake was the sizzling smell of barbecuing meat which was wafting from a little lower down the garden, where a House Elf toiled over the hot grill, sweating in the sun. It was unlike Lucius to be so contented to just sit around at home, but he found himself thinking that if this is what married life would consist of, he could probably just about handle it. A smile crept onto his face as Narcissa started humming beneath her breath, obviously as at peace with the world as he was at the moment. He was about to ask what she was singing when the world changed, and the peace was shattered – along with his glass of butterbeer. A sharp, searing pain burned its way up his arm, and he hissed in shock and moved instinctively at the same second as Narcissa let out a similar cry of shock and pain. It was the Dark Lord calling. They would have to apparate immediately. Their first mission was about to begin. Within moments, all remnants of the relaxed afternoon they had been enjoying together were dissolved, and their game faces slid on, hiding their nerves and apprehensions. Swiftly they put on their Death Eater's robes and masks and made their way outside the wards around the Manor. Lucius offered his hand to Narcissa, and the two of them turned on the spot, apparating blindly to wherever they were meeting; their marks would guide them.

On arriving, they found themselves in a wide open space, several other black figures already congregated and more arriving by the second. Lucius recognised the figure of the Lieutenant standing in the centre of the roughly-formed circle. He glanced sidelong at his companion, but she was not looking at him, and he could tell little of her thoughts from her masked profile. He hoped she was ready and prepared, and that this mission would not break the new trust that had formed between them. He had little time to think anything else, though, because the Lieutenant was speaking.

"It is a pleasure to see you all here, I trust ready to complete your first assignment for our glorious master. I promised you but a minor role last time our paths met, but the Dark Lord wishes for something particular to be accomplished, so I shall waste no time messing about with minor matters first. The Dark Lord wants only the strong in his service. The initiation was only the first test. On this mission, some of you may die, those too weak to accomplish what is desired, but this will be no loss to the Dark Lord. Those who cannot do what is required are not valuable. Let us hope you remember this, but also remember that the service of the Dark Lord is more important than your own lives. Any who flee will be hunted down." A shiver ran through the circle. The Lieutenant seemed pleased with this reaction.

"The mission, then. We have information from a spy that two blood traitors Gideon and Fabian Prewett will be in a bar outside of Ewell in Surrey tonight. In fact, they will be meeting with one they think is against our side, but in fact he is our informant. We will bring our full force down upon the brothers and aim to capture them in order to gain information on the society we believe they are recruiting for. It should not be too difficult for your number, but it is of crucial importance. If by any chance the capture should fail, then a kill is acceptable. We will apparate to this address. Any questions?" He was met with dumb silence. After a few moments of staring hard at his audience, he recited an address and gestured for the assembled Death Eaters to follow suit as he turned on the spot.

Lucius had little time to react once the constricting bands had released him. He had only a second to take in the stereotypical tavern, with its smoky air and tarnished wooden tables, before the dimly lit room they had appeared in erupted into a battle. The brothers, whom Lucius recognised from school, were sitting in relaxed poses, wands in pockets, but they leapt into action the second the Death Eaters descended upon them with the reflexes of warriors, and hexes and jinxes flew everywhere. As Lucius jumped to defend himself against the sparks which were flying, a flash of silver whipped past him, momentarily diverting him.

"They have summoned help. Quickly, bring them down," the Lieutenant roared; he was sheltered behind a table which was already missing chunks. Several of Lucius' companions were already on the ground, hurt or unconscious. These men were like machines, powerful enough to fend off almost a dozen enemies. He looked wildly around for Narcissa; she was duelling the darker of the brothers along with Avery. Lucius stepped in to help, and recoiled as a sectumsempra curse hit his shoulder. He was thrown backwards into the wall, and just in time, because half the ceiling fell in exactly where he had been standing, no doubt due to some poorly aimed curse. If he had remained where he was, he would have been crushed to death. As it was, he was peppered with a rain of heavy rocks and falling splinters. Disoriented and covered in blood and plaster, Lucius saw a flash of green, but did not know if it had hit anyone, or who it had come from. As he muscled his way out of the heap of brick and mortar which had fallen on and around him, he felt the sombre atmosphere which meant somebody was dead. The battle was by no means over, though; one of the Prewetts was still on his feet, desperately outnumbered but still shooting out curses. Lucius aimed his wand and conjured roped, which began to twist around the man, binding his arms to his side.

"Argh," Prewett yelled in panic. His wand clattered to the floor, and he struggled fruitlessly against the bonds, crashing to the ground as he lost his balance. He looked wildly around him, and his eyes widened in a moment of pain as he saw his brother on the ground a few metres away; he was clearly dead. The Death Eaters were regrouping; at least five were still standing, and they trained their wands on the struggling man.

"I will travel with him, the rest of you clean up," The Lieutenant commanded to the dazed troops. No sooner had he grabbed the man, however, than a bang erupted from behind them, and another Death Eater fell to the floor; reinforcements had arrived. Seven witches and wizards poured into the room, wands raised, taking in the carnage and the opposition. Another bang and the Lieutenant was thrown from Prewett, who once again fell with a grunt to the floor.

"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!" The room was a chorus of spells, and Lucius knew it was a lost cause. They had to get out. He ducked behind an upturned chair and spied out Narcissa across the room, still on her feet and backed into a corner by three wizards. Aiming a cunning levicorpus at one of them, he was able to distract their attention from her and she made her way over to him, grabbing his hand and firing hexes by his side as the battle raged.

"Out!" they heard the Lieutenant roar above the explosions which were shaking the room. They did not hesitate, but apparated away from the scene; three bodies of Death Eaters still lay upon the ground, whether dead or injured Lucius was unsure, but he was not waiting around to find out. He landed hard on the ground, panting heavily and still clutching Narcissa's hand. Suddenly he realised how much pain he was in. It was a lot.

"A disaster," a sharp voice spoke. The Lieutenant was on his feet, the only one of the six who had made it back not to be sprawled on the floor. That meant that four of their number were still back there. This did not bode well for them, but for the moment Lucius was more concerned about himself and Narcissa, who was also covered in blood and dust.

"Are you hurt?" he asked softly. She shook her head, indicating that she was a little battered but not seriously hurt. Rookwood was bleeding profusely from the mouth and McNair was sporting a torn and bloody sleeve. Apart from that, everyone looked fairly unscathed. Lucius' shoulder throbbed, and he noted the large gash and drying blood across his robes. Narcissa's small hand gently pulled the fabric away to examine the cut, and Lucius winced in pain.

"What happened back there?" a voice demanded.

"We underestimated them," Lucius replied brusquely.

"True," the Lieutenant confirmed. "Just two of them, but deadly assassins, both. I am afraid there was no chance of getting out of there with the other, so I terminated him before I apparated. It was unfortunate, but at least they have two fewer on their side."

"But we lost four," Lucius countered. "Doesn't that put them in the lead?"

"It is not a game, my friend," the Lieutenant said severely. "But if it were, then we lost only pawns. They have lost their rooks." Lucius inclined his head, but inside he fumed at being termed a pawn.

"The remainder of you have made it past yet another hurdle, but I am afraid that the Dark Lord will be disappointed that there will be no prisoners to interrogate. I expect he will want to see you in person, to give an account of yourselves."

-

In fact this was an empty threat, and the tired and wounded Death Eaters returned home after quaking in their boots a full fifteen minutes as the Lieutenant gave his report. It seemed that a new lead meant the Prewetts were not crucial to the plan after all, and the four who had been captured - Wilkes, Johnson, Xavier and Gordon - were all expendable and knew nothing of importance, so their loss was barely mourned. None of the men were known to Lucius personally, so it did not bother him. When they were released with the promise of being contacted again soon, Lucius, along with Narcissa, collapsed onto the couch in Lucius' flat, and began to laugh uncontrollably, from shock and exhaustion and relief. They were still alive after all, and together.

"Let me see to that wound," Narcissa said finally, as their laughter spent itself. Lucius reclined as she summoned a cloth and hot water and gently stripped off his shirt. She bathed the ugly cut with the gentle tenderness of a nurse and lover combined, and Lucius was enchanted through the pain by her beauty and kindness. He watched the way her long silver-blonde hair fell across her face as she knelt by his side, and he felt an overwhelming urge to brush it away, to touch her smooth skin. He gave in to it and she smiled softly as he caressed her cheek.

Unexplainable emotion was bubbling in Lucius' chest. He felt it form itself, grow stronger than his tongue, and overpower his rational brain. It formed itself into words.

"Marry me," Lucius said abruptly.


	12. First Move

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, things get more interesting from here. I'm feeling really awful so I feel very virtuous for updating. Please leave lots of reviews to cheer me up. Is that emotional blackmail? Oh well...**

-12- First Move

_"Marry me," Lucius said abruptly._

Immediately, Narcissa pulled away a little, meeting his eyes in confusion, almost as if she thought he was joking.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, ever ladylike.

"I asked you to marry me?" Lucius said. It came out as a question, uncertain. He frowned slightly to himself, wondering what had induced him to come out with those words. He hadn't really thought seriously about whether or not he would now be marrying Narcissa, and had certainly not been meaning to propose to her. But there it was, and he was damned if he was going to take it back. Narcissa was still looking at him in surprise, and her wide eyes began to narrow in suspicion.

"Where did that come from? Did your father put you up to this? Or my parents?"

"Uhh-" In fact the timing of this question was rather poor. Just yesterday Lucius' father had taken him aside after Narcissa had left the Manor, and presented him with a small green velvet bag.

What's this?" Lucius asked his father as he pressed the little bag into his hands. "If it's what I think it is, then-"

"Now, now, my boy," Abraxas cut across him hastily, as Lucius began to work up an attitude. "I've seen how well the two of you have been getting on, and it's been almost five months since you have been in the public eye together, so I decided it was time to give you another little nudge in the right direction."

"The right direction?" Lucius repeated sceptically. "You know, just because we can stand each others' company does not make it the foundations of a good marriage. I'm not at all sure about this, father. I think I want to give it a good while longer before I move on to the next stage, _if _I decide to."

"Nonsense. We've already decided this," overrode Abraxas. "The Blacks and I are already discussing venues, so I will brook no arguments. Here, take a look," he shook the rings out onto Lucius' palm before he could respond, and Lucius was immediately distracted. He bent to examine the engagement ring; it was in the shape of a curling silver serpent, two-headed, the open jaws meeting at the top, clasped around a glittering emerald. It was very beautiful, and Lucius could see it in his mind's eye on the pale, delicate finger of Narcissa. Of course, he had already put a ring to her finger, but sensibly she had slipped it onto her right hand instead after a couple in the street had congratulated them on their engagement. Narcissa had laughed hard at this, and Lucius had joined in, but had failed to see what was so funny in the idea of them being engaged. The wedding ring was a plain white gold band, but it was obviously well made, and Lucius knew that it would be engraved before the wedding – if there was a wedding that was. He had not bothered to argue any further with his father, keeping in mind his and Narcissa's plans to teach them a lesson for their interference.

Back in his current confrontation with Narcissa, Lucius' palms were beginning to sweat, and he was panicking a little; it would be a humiliation if he was turned down, and he did not want to lose her from his life.

"I didn't ask you because of my father," Lucius told her. "I love you, and I want you in my life. We don't even have to go through with whatever stupid plans they have for us, unless you want to. We could elope to Hawaii, or Paris, and just get away from it all."

"Lucius," Narcissa said, her voice odd and constricted, but not overly cold, to his relief. "I thought you didn't want to marry. I thought you liked your freedom. You do realise that if we married we would have to live together and receive guests together, do you not?"

"I know," Lucius nodded, his heart doing an odd wriggle in his chest and his stomach turning to jelly. "But I'd have to do that whenever I married and I can't get away with being a bachelor forever. If I marry, I want it to be you in the white dress." He knew he had said something wrong as Narcissa's face hardened.

"So I'm a convenience, am I? If you _have _to marry then I'll do the job satisfactorily?"

"No! I didn't mean it like that." Lucius swallowed, and let his brain do some seriously quick footwork. "What I mean is: You came into my life unexpectedly and uninvited, by me, anyway. I was happy being a bachelor and yes, I loved having my freedom and I didn't want anybody to come in and ruin that. But then it was you, and you were beautiful and quirky and, well, just like me, really. You're fun and you know your own mind and we have so much in common, so much to learn from each other. I've never had anyone before where I've woken up and thought how lucky I was that they were in my life. I've never had anyone I've cared enough about to work at the relationship, to make promises to and actually keep them. I've never had anyone I've shared my whole life with, and been glad that they were a part of it. I couldn't care less about expectations, Narcissa, or convenience. I won't lie, I wasn't expecting a wife, but I found one. I don't want a wife. I want you, and I want you to be mine forever. This, well, it seemed to make sense. It just sort of came out, really," Lucius finished lamely.

Throughout the speech Narcissa's face has held a myriad of emotions; mistrust, contempt, uncertainty, amusement and passion had all vied for first position. Luckily for Lucius, as he waited on tenterhooks for her response to his speech, which despite his Slytherin quick thinking had mostly been honest, the emotion which won out in the end was tenderness.

"You know, Lucius, you really are the dearest fool," Narcissa smiled, her eyes full and her voice both exasperated and kind. "You never think, do you? You just ask. Like any man, really."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Lucius asked tentatively.

"It's a yes, mostly," Narcissa laughed. Lucius' heart leapt.

"What do you mean mostly?"

"I mean we're doing it my way, or our way. I'm not going to condescend to being married like a common muggle in some poky little office with a burger from a drive-by as my wedding dinner, but no more am I going to let my parents get their way and dress me up as a meringue and pat themselves on the back." Narcissa said firmly. "If you're game for this, then we will marry quite spectacularly but entirely independently, and honeymoon in Venice. I expect no skimping on the expenses, Lucius Malfoy." She was smirking by the end of this prim speech, but then so was Lucius."

"For you, my flower, I would blow my entire inheritance," Lucius grinned. "I knew there was a reason I asked you."

"And I knew there was a reason I accepted," Narcissa laughed.

"Do you need a ring, or shall we keep it a secret until we're ready to make our move?" Lucius queried mockingly.

"I already have a ring. I think it will be quite sufficient to bide our time. I believe we would do well to put our dear parents off the trail and act quite indifferent to a marriage for the time being," Narcissa said lightly, her eyes glowing with mischief.

"For the time being," Lucius agreed gleefully. "Now, talking of time, what did you have planned for the evening now you've finished playing nursemaid?" His eyes held a flirtatious hint. Narcissa smiled at his suggestion, playing along eagerly.

"I think we can come up with something," she grinned, and laughed as Lucius grabbed her and pulled her back onto the couch.


	13. First Deception

**Another light, bantering chapter. I hope you enjoy it xx**

-13- First Deception

Two weeks after the secret engagement and Abraxas and the Blacks were getting anxious. Lucius and Narcissa, of course, were fully aware of this and enjoying every minute of their parents' torment. Abraxas had taken to having his House Elf spy on them whenever they were at the Manor, which was frequently, because his grand plan seemed to be having dinner with them and then leaving them alone for some 'private conversation', which he always said with great emphasis whilst gesturing furiously to Lucius to ask her the damned question already. Lucius would pretend to be oblivious to this, and the couple would spend the next hour talking about Quiddich or art galleries or some other mundane and non-romantic topic, fully aware that Abraxas had Tippy listening at the door. At the Black residence, the hints were much the same; Druella would reminisce pointedly about the early years of her marriage to Cygnus, inform Narcissa how well Bellatrix was and how exciting she was finding married life and tell Lucius that he was a handsome young man and she would be proud to have him in the family. Again, Lucius and Narcissa would nod and smile politely and turn the conversation to the subject of dragon breeding or household pests.

Once they were out of earshot of their parents, they would break down in laughter, clutching each other for support and gasp "Did you see mother's face when she was telling me about moving in with her husband and I asked if that was when she discovered that the house was infested with Doxies?" or "Father was about to burst when he was gesturing for me to get a move on and you asked if there was a fly in the room." The fun lasted for nearly another whole fortnight before the despairing parents gave up entirely on their plan to let the couple do it under their own steam. It was clear that they had been discussing it behind their backs, just as Lucius and Narcissa had been, and one day when Narcissa came over for dinner, she was accompanied by her parents, who looked very foreboding. Lucius could tell that Narcissa had been forced to allow them to accompany her, and that she knew something he didn't, but that he could easily guess, because she was wearing what looked like an entire field of poppies in her hair as well as her black lace fingerless gloves; Narcissa's clothing was usually a great portent for her attitude.

"Ah, my dear Blacks," Abraxas boomed jovially. "It's truly a pleasure. Won't you all sit down?"

"Thank you, Abraxas," Druella said cordially. "That would be most welcome."

"Any drinks, Malfoy?" Cygnus grunted. He was very portly and extremely irritable unless he had a bottle of firewhisky within his reach, but he had obviously been browbeaten into coming by his wife and was determined to make the most of it.

"Of course. Tippy?" The elf appeared carrying a laden tray.

"Now, I'm sure you young people are wondering why we're all dining together today," Abraxas began patronisingly.

"I'm just dying to know to what I owe this pleasure," Lucius drawled sarcastically. Narcissa fought to hide her smirk.

"Very well, it seems to us that you two are not keeping up your end of the bargain," Abraxas said sternly. "So we have felt it incumbent upon us to give you a little nudge. Why is it, Lucius, that you have not yet given Narcissa the rings?"

"I should have thought that the reason was perfectly clear," Lucius said silkily.

"Well it's just not acceptable," Abraxas scolded. "Here is your poor sweetheart, meekly waiting for you to do your duty by her and you refuse to oblige." It was Narcissa's turn to scowl at the description of her as a meek little woman. She let out a soft hiss and her parents shifted uncomfortably on either side of her; they knew their daughter rather better than Abraxas did, and they knew this was unlikely to go down well.

"Indeed," Lucius said coldly. "Narcissa, dear, what have you to say? Will you forgive me for behaving like such a wretch and refusing to give you what you so desire?" He could not resist setting her off. The look of fear on Cygnus' face and the way his hand shot out for the bottle of spirits was priceless; he was afraid of his own daughter, and this was the man who had raised Bellatrix?

"It is not your forgiveness which is needed, dear Lucius," Narcissa purred, venom coating every syllable. "I think I must be at fault for misrepresenting my character to your father. At no point, sir, did I desire for this match to be arranged by yourselves. If any agreement comes about it is between yourself and my parents." Abraxas turned purple as Narcissa smiled sweetly at him, but he was unable to respond because his upbringing had taught him never to be rude to a lady, unless said lady was a mudblood, of course.

"Come, Narcissa, we have discussed this," Druella said sharply, intervening on Abraxas' behalf. Ah, here is the real adversity, thought Lucius. Poor Cygnus never had a chance. "It is your duty."

"Well, now, let us settle this so that we can start dinner," Abraxas said quickly, trying to inject some pleasantness back into the conversation. "Lucius, my boy, do you have the ring?"

"Must have forgotten it," Lucius said innocently.

"Very well, _accio engagement ring_," Abraxas hollered. The little bag zoomed into Abraxas' grasp. "Lucius, give the ring to Narcissa." Lucius was very tempted to flick the ring across the room onto Narcissa's lap, but in front of the glowering Druella he did not quite dare. Instead he got down on one knee in front of her and said theatrically:

"Oh light of my heart, wonder of my soul, would you do me the immeasurable honour of becoming my wife?" Narcissa raised one eyebrow at him, and said coolly:

"It would be to me a pleasure akin to the crying of the gull above the sapphire sea," Narcissa gushed sarcastically, which was the greatest lot of nonsense Lucius had ever heard, and was therefore a perfect response. He slipped the ring onto her finger, and she said sardonically, "Oh, this is just the happiest day of my life, I'm quite overcome."

"Ah, sweet Narcissa, our two hearts beat as one," Lucius said mockingly.

"Enough," Druella snapped. "I will not abide by such insults. It is done, and you had better get used to it and stop behaving like a pair of imbeciles." Lucius and Narcissa shared a triumphant smirk and resumed their seats. Abraxas was looking at a bit of a loss, so he solved the problem by saying:

"Ah, dinner is served." The conversation at the dinner table centred on the forthcoming wedding. It was decided that it would be held in two months' time, plenty of time, in Druella's opinion, to sort out all the details and send out a guest list. As the talk turned to such fascinating subjects as bridesmaid's dresses and table arrangements, Lucius caught Narcissa's eye.

"Venice," she mouthed. He nodded and gave her a quick wink before they both returned to their soup, the picture of innocence. Let their parents think they had won this round. The joke would be on them.


	14. First Adventure

**I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I really hope you enjoy reading it and I would really appreciate feedback. Thanks xx**

-14- First Adventure

Another day, another irritation. It was time for Lucius and Narcissa to face the music; their parents had arranged for them to host a party, at which their engagement would be announced. It was a tricky situation for the two. On one hand, both Narcissa and Lucius enjoyed being the centre of attention, and were also reluctant to ruin their reputations or places in society by behaving like two sulky teenagers forced into a marriage by their parents. It would not be pleasant for either of them to start a marriage with rumours that they were having problems with each other. On the other hand, they did not want their parents to have the satisfaction of having a successful party and thinking they had the upper hand. It would take some careful planning to bring the party off to their liking, and this they planned to do.

It was to be at the Black Mansion, in the large ball room. It was a white tie occasion, and of course only the most prominent names were to be invited. The House Elves had outdone themselves with the decoration, of course. Ornate crystal chandeliers floated below the high ceiling, twinkling lights nestled in the beams and in the many flowers which were placed around the room. Live fairies were circling the room and sprinkling glitter at intervals, making the very air shimmer. A raised platform was in the centre of the room, and there was an alcove separated by an ivy archway in which a band was playing soft instrumental music. The refreshment table was full of the most carefully prepared and beautifully arranged snacks that could be conceived of, and the goblets were all solid silver with the Black crest emblazoned on. These were enchanted to magically refill themselves, thus ensuring mellow and agreeable guests.

It had been agreed by Druella and Abraxas that the announcement should be made at eleven, followed by a champagne toast, and that the ball should draw to a close at midnight. It had been agreed by Narcissa and Lucius that they should arrive at the ball in disguise and announce their engagement in their own fashion, and that the party should continue until the early hours of the morning. Their parents, of course, had no idea of this whatsoever, which made it all the more fun for them, and for the few close friends who had been notified.

"Where are they?" Druella demanded shrilly as the clock struck half ten and there was still no sign of the happy couple; the ball had started at nine and Druella had sent out a discreet search party for her daughter and future son-in-law at ten past. They still had not appeared and their absence was being remarked upon.

"What's that?" Cygnus mumbled, his hand grasping a goblet of mead.

"Oh, really. Just have another drink," snapped Druella. She was short-tempered at the best of times, but now her nerves were stretched to breaking point. The Lestranges and the Rosiers were here, and she did not want to be shown up when Evan Rosier had just made a very advantageous marriage to Zara Selwyn, whom he had chosen over Narcissa. She had been itching to rub it in his face that Narcissa was to be wed to a Malfoy. At that moment, though, all thoughts of this were driven out of her head as the music changed from a soft waltz to the ostentatious and attention-grabbing introductory bars of a tango; she frowned, distracted. She was sure that was not on the approved list. It was far too racy for her taste. She turned towards the band to express her disapproval, but her eye was caught by two figures approaching each other from opposite ends of the raised platform. Her mouth set into a thunderous scowl as she recognised them.

On the platform, Lucius was approaching Narcissa, the stirring notes of the music sounding in his ears; he sensed all the eyes in the room turn towards them, and allowed himself a small smirk; so far, so good. He was wearing black trousers and a white shirt, open to the waist and with belled sleeves. It was plain but striking; he knew he looked amazing, and his clothes were remarkable in comparison to the tuxedos the other male guests were all wearing. What was drawing the awed murmurs of excitement and anticipation was the smouldering blonde opposite him. Narcissa was clad in a tight-fitting scarlet dress, split to the thigh and showing acres of creamy white leg, which ended in killer stilettos. Her hair was loose and a single red flower was nestled in the silver blonde tendrils. Both of them were wearing plain black velvet masks over the top halves of their faces, completing their mysterious but thrilling appearance.

The dance began suddenly and expertly, and the room was in dead silence as each and every pair of eyes followed the progress of the couple. Both were accomplished dancers, and this was exhibited very boldly through their daring and provocative routine. As the dance progressed, Lucius clasped Narcissa tightly around the waist, and she hooked her thigh around him and arched backwards as the tempo momentarily slowed. The crowd gasped as Lucius drew his hand from her neck to her stomach. Seconds later, the dance had begun again and the dancers twirled with fluid and beautiful movements, the scarlet material of Narcissa's dress billowing impressively, mesmerising the guests. They were like a force of nature, a scarlet whirlwind of passion and beauty. When their dance ended in a sudden arresting of sound and movement, the final pose artistic and deeply sensuous, there was a full five seconds of silence before the crowd exploded in applause. Lucius and Narcissa bowed, and threw their masks into the crowd, eliciting a further cheer, at which Lucius grabbed Narcissa and bent her backwards in a passionate kiss.

"Thank you, dear friends," he bellowed over the noise, and the cheering faded away. "It is our great pleasure to see you all here tonight, but you are here for a reason. I would like to announce that the lovely Narcissa Black and myself will shortly marry." Applause and shouts of congratulations followed this statement, but Lucius was not finished. "We have decided, since our joy in this is so extreme that it knows no bounds, we would like to share it with you, our dear and esteemed friends. With great pleasure, then, we will be hosting this ball not until midnight as previously promised, but throughout the entire night. And you can all drink as much as you please, it's all on us!" He was yelling now, because the roars of excitement from the younger contingent were ear-splitting. "And enough of this music, Cissy and I have some real entertainment for you. Please welcome the wonder of the muggle world, here for our enjoyment and entirely free since they don't know how to fight the imperius – just joking, people – QUEEN!" Again there was a roar of enthusiasm; although they were a muggle band, Lucius and his friends were huge fans, as was most of the wizarding world, and in any case, it was much easier to confund a bunch of famous muggles to play for free than to rent an overpaid and undertalented wizard group. The dance floor filled with enthusiastic moshers as the first notes of Bohemian Rhapsody echoed around the room. Narcissa and Lucius smirked at the sudden chaos they had created; this was so much more fun than a fancy ball. There was no doubt about it: by tomorrow, they were going to be infamous.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of music, screaming and crowd-surfing. Less than five minutes after the band had started playing, the elder contingent had retired in disgust and the younger people had been joined by about a hundred more witches and wizards who had friends there and had received owls to tell them about what was going on. It was a huge success, with Lucius and Narciss right in the thick of it; the band, spurred on by the huge cheers and a little bit of magical persuasion, played until dawn, and the party did not break up until after six in the morning. At this junction, the couple were exhausted but elated with their brilliant plan, and collapsed onto a couch to catch a few hours of sleep before they had to face their furious parents. They were not so lucky. No sooner had they closed their eyes than a loud bang erupted in the room, and they both shot up, looking about them to meet the furiously flashing eyes of Druella Black and Abraxas Malfoy.

"Just what, _what,_ I ask you, were you thinking?" Druella asked menacingly.

"Oh come on, the party was a huge success," Lucius grinned, but this was not going to cut it. The adults were beyond livid.

"How dare you humiliate us in front of our peers by wreaking havoc upon our illustrious home, the home of our ancestors, and on top of it, assaulting our ears with that muggle filth," Druella screeched. "I was mortified enough, Narcissa, when you started behaving like a common whore, dancing that tawdry thing with a man to whom you are not as yet married, but to allow common muggles to start a rave in our house after all my careful plans. I am beyond disgusted! Explain yourself!"

"Mrs Black, please calm down," Lucius soothed. "Narcissa and I merely felt that this was a little more our style than a ball. After all, it is our engagement. I thought you wanted us to be more involved in the whole thing. At least we announced the engagement."

"With a lapdance!" howled Druella. "You practically gave all our friends a preview of your wedding night on the stage!" Narcissa hissed at this, and threw her mother a contemptuous glare.

"Don't be such a prude, mother. I don't give a hex what your friends thought, it may not have been conventional but it was splendid. Both Adrian Nott and Sapphire Flint were dancing, and Morgan Lively crowd-surfed, he's fifty if he's a day and he runs the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for Merlin's sake. And what about father? He didn't seem to mind." Lucius grinned at the memory of Cygnus waving his goblet merrily to the dulcet tones of Freddy Mercury all night long.

"Nevertheless it wasn't seemly," Abraxas cut in. "It was not the way I would have wanted my son and future daughter-in-law to have behaved."

"Well it is our marriage, and we will do it our way," Lucius said stubbornly. "Feel free to plan us a wedding, father, but rest assured, we will not be used to make connections for you."

"Connections? You have just invited muggles and half-bloods to tear this house apart. You have ruined our reputations, your own futures, your self-respect..." Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a look. They were tired, but their eyes were alive with adventure. This had been the best stunt they had ever pulled, and they knew, if anything, it had won them a place in the hearts of practically every witch and wizard below forty – and a few above, too. It was worth the yelling any day. The only problem was, how were they going to top this at the wedding?


	15. First Ceremony

**I got a record number of hits on my last update but very few reviews. I assume that means people like this story so I'm going to keep positive and change my refrain from please review to thanks for reading! Enjoy this chapter xx**

-15- First Ceremony

How were they going to top their engagement party?

The answer came to them easily, and it was invitingly simple; an elopement. They had had to ride out a heavy and unrelenting storm following the stunt they had pulled with their party, and their parents had become even more adamant that the wedding should be perfect and go off without a hitch. They had forgiven the couple, however, when the Daily Prophet dubbed the party as 'the event of the century' and 'a revolutionary and innovative event which leaves the Black-Malfoy engagement firmly in the limelight'. They had been less amused by the Quibbler's assertion that they had 'held out the hand of friendship to muggles' through their choice of band, but then again nobody ever paid any attention to that rag, so it was not important. The fact was that whether their parents had liked it or not, the party had made Lucius and Narcissa infamous as the hot new couple in the wizarding world. Everybody who was anybody was clamouring for an invite to the wedding, which meant that even those stuffy old families who had shunned the party wanted to be in good favour with the Blacks and the Malfoys. In any case, Druella was satisfied; Evan Rosier had never looked so livid in his life. Plain, pallid Zara was now forgotten next to Lucius' spirited fiancé.

Things were progressing fast, and before they knew it, the wedding was in two weeks. After they had their fun with the engagement party, Lucius and Narcissa let their parents have their own way for a while, or at least let them think they were having their own way. Narcissa had been dragged off by her mother and sister to get her dress fitted while Lucius and his father were having an awkward man-to-man discussion. It was hard to say which one was less enthused at this turn of events.

"Can't you just get Bella to try the dress on?" Narcissa demanded. "She's the same size as me and she didn't wear a wedding dress so I'm sure she's just dying to make up for that." Bella had worn a blood red evening gown to her wedding, strictly against her mother's wishes. Seeing as Andromeda, her other sister, had married a muggle-born, this was Druella's last ditch attempt to marry off a daughter respectably.

"Bella will need to be fitted for a bridesmaid dress," Druella replied impatiently. "It would not kill you, Narcissa, to show a little more enthusiasm about all this."

"Yes, because that went down so well last time," Narcissa muttered under her breath. After the engagement fiasco, as her mother called it, she had tried to involve her daughter in the wedding plans in a transparent attempt to prevent any difference in objectives this time around. This had gone down the drain when she had let Narcissa choose the fabric for the bridesmaid gowns and she had ordered four black lace minidresses. To be fair, Bella had been all for the idea, but the idea of Vera Crabbe in a minidress was stomach-turning, and the idea had been vetoed. Her mother had had a fit when she discovered what Narcissa had tried to do, and had immediately banned her from doing anything without her permission and panic-bought fifty metres of gold tulle for the wedding gown before Narcissa could get any more ideas. Narcissa had let it go, since she wasn't planning on attending this wedding anyway, but the loss of Vera Crabbe in tight black lace was something that she mourned for.

It caused Narcissa a small pang when she saw her wedding dress, because she knew she would never wear it. It was strapless, pale gold, with diamonds glittering across the bodice. The skirt was full but not meringue-like, with an opaque chiffon shift over the top, separated at the front with another row of diamonds, with several diamond flowers on the material peeking out from underneath. It was spectacularly beautiful, but Narcissa reminded herself of the dress she was planning on wearing when she and Lucius eloped, and this got her through the fitting admirably. She even refrained from screaming when her mother made her try on fifty-seven different pairs of shoes before deciding on the first pair she had tried on.

Lucius, meanwhile, was trying to keep his face straight as his father gave him the most cringe-worthy speech imaginable about the expectations of the wedding night.

"Now, boy, I am sure you are aware that carnal desire is not the only reason for the, er, consummation of a marriage," he blustered awkwardly as Lucius tried not to show his disgust and amusement. "It is your duty as a Malfoy to continue the line, and as such, well, you know your mother and I-"

"I am aware of your desire for a grandchild, father," Lucius put in quickly before Abraxas could get carried away on the subject. "But all in due time, do you not think? We are not married as yet."

"No, but it is best to be prepared for these things, Lucius," Abraxas persevered, bravely in Lucius' opinion, since his face was purple with embarrassment. "And I assume so far your main object in this sort of situation has been to prevent-"

"Oh sweet Merlin," Lucius exclaimed in despair.

All in all, it was a relief to both Lucius and Narcissa when the preparations for the event were over and the day itself drew near. It was much easier to just go along with the preparations, however painful it was to their sanity. Besides, there was much less fun in deception if it was expected. It was much better to play along until the last minute and then fly the nest when they were least expected to. The morning of the wedding was dim and misty, but Druella insisted that this was a good sign and that the sun would break through in time for the ceremony. She shook Narcissa awake herself, with a glass of jasmine tea and a lecture about decorum. Narcissa sighed, heavy-eyed, and pretended to listen. Today she was getting married.

"Narcissa, are you listening?" Druella said sharply.

"Yes, mother, you told me not to sit down or else I may rumple my dress," Narcissa monotone voice repeated back at her mother.

"Are you feeling all right, Cissy?" Druella asked, concerned. "Would you like a fever relief potion? You look a little flushed."

"I'm sure it will pass, it's just nerves," Narcissa soothed. "Perhaps I could rest for a while longer before I start getting ready to calm myself a little?" she asked innocently. Her mother looked at her intently.

"Perhaps that would be best," she agreed at last. "I'll send Moxie to help with your hair in an hour." With that she swept to the door to do all the mother-of-the-bride-y things which she felt needed her personal attention. A second before she left, she paused and looked at her daughter with emotion shining in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you," she breathed. Narcissa forced a smile onto her face. It slid off the moment she left the room, and Narcissa felt a brief twinge of regret. Her mother would never forgive her. But then Narcissa thought of all the stupid things her mother had forced her to do over the years, the decisions she had made for her. She knew that she was doing the right thing, or at least the most satisfying thing. She knew her mother was using her, the 'obedient' daughter, to fulfil her own wishes, and Narcissa would not be used by anyone any more. She slipped out of bed and lifted the disillusionment charm from a small suitcase stored underneath her bed. It was almost time.

Lucius was already up, pacing the room in an imitation of nervous grooms he had seen in muggle movies. Abraxas entered to find the gratifying sight of his son looking pale and anxious, twiddling the wedding ring distractedly in his hand.

"Not getting the jitters, are you, son?" he boomed jovially. "Only a few hours to go, too late to back out now."

"I didn't know I ever had the option of backing out," Lucius raised his eyebrows. "No, don't fear, father, I am a true Malfoy, and we do not back out on our word. Well actually we do, all the time, but we do not betray our family, and I intend to marry Narcissa today. I just have a little pent up energy."

"Quite," Abraxas said, looking deeply relieved that Lucius was not intending to jilt his bride at this late hour. "I vividly remember my own wedding. Morgana was quite a handful and I was a little anxious just before the ceremony." Lucius seemed to recall his mother telling him the story slightly differently; apparently, she had snuck into Abraxas' quarters before the wedding and tried to drive a knife through his heart. 'a little anxious' did not seem to cover this sort of event.

"I think maybe a walk in the grounds would do me good," Lucius said evenly. "To calm my excitement."

"Very well, very well, just make sure you return by eleven," Abraxas reminded him. Lucius strode from the room, not forgetting to grab his cloak, which concealed a shrunken suitcase of belongings in one pocket.

The ceremony was set to take place at twelve, and everything was set up. As the couple themselves had had little input, the wedding would be held in a church in the village closest to Malfoy Manor, where the reception would be held later. The church was magically enlarged for the twelve hundred guests, and live cupids simpered sickeningly, swooping overhead and serenading the waiting audience with Elton John numbers. On the raised dais at the front, there was nothing but a stone altar wound with red roses and set with a large crystal in the centre of a carving of a swooping eagle. At five to twelve, everybody in pace and a blonde figure with his back facing the audience in place, the music began. On the arm of a swaying Cygnus, who had clearly already discovered where the catering crew had hidden the champagne, came a veiled figure clad in a beautiful pale gold dress. Sighs of awe came from the audience as the cupids congregated, scattering rose petals in front of the golden-clad figure's progress. Finally, they reached the front, where Cygnus handed her shakily to the waiting groom.

It was at this point that the wedding deviated from plan. Instead of facing each other hand in hand as they were supposed to, the bride and groom immediately walked together to the altar, and the groom took out his wand. Murmurs of confusion broke out at this behaviour, but they were cut off as the groom prodded the crystal which was set in the carving, and a voice filled the room, magically magnified so that even those right at the back could be in no doubt of what was being said.

"Good afternoon. You are gathered here today to witness the union of Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy," Lucius' voice rang out, his tone dripping with suppressed glee. "Unfortunately, Narcissa and Lucius are unavailable today on account of a previous engagement, namely their marriage, which is in fact taking place privately on a beach in Italy. We meant to drop you an owl telling you the change in plans, but we never quite got around to it. Sorry, folks. Enjoy the reception in any case, save us a slice of the cake. We'll send a postcard. And father, this was really Narcissa's idea, I couldn't say no. And Mr and Mrs Black, Narcissa sends her love and asks me to inform you that it was all my idea and that she found it impossible to refuse my dashing and romantic manner."

The voice broke off, and an abrupt silence rang out through the room. On the faces of the new in-laws, storm clouds were gathering.


	16. First Marriage

**A refreshing little drop of happiness for the couple before I get more serious again. Links for the dresses on my profile page because I'm just that cool. Enjoy xx**

-16- First Marriage

Their wedding was magical. It went exactly to plan, the two lovers escaping their overbearing families and meeting at a secret spot, where they apparated to Venice. Lucius and Narcissa had planned this getaway out beforehand, letting a select few in on the planning and execution, and a friend of Narcissa's had lent them a beautiful villa in which they could peacefully and privately honeymoon. After depositing their luggage and changing into their wedding outfits, they had made their way down to the small chapel in the village. It was ancient and a little run-down, but the architecture was beautiful, and the stone archway was wound round with sweetly scented honeysuckle. It was a muggle church, but the ceremony was a magical one. A couple of years ago, on a holiday to Genoa, Lucius had had a relationship with a beautiful Italian woman named Isabella Mancini, twelve years older than himself and heiress to extensive property in her home country. They had parted amicably when Lucius had returned home, but had kept in touch by the occasional owl. Although a little upset to find out that Lucius was marrying, Isabella had been delighted by the romance of an elopement, and had assisted greatly with the planning of the wedding, even coming over to stay in her property in Venice to arrange for the decoration of the church and the improvements and supplies for the villa in which they were staying. She had offered her own property, but the location had not been ideal as it was in the middle of the crowded town.

It was Isabella and her friends Carmella and Sofia who were witnesses and bridesmaids, dressed at Isabella's instigation in simple dresses of pearly pink satin. Narcissa's own dress had also been designed by Isabella, at her insistence. It was stunning and unique; clinging tightly to Narcissa's curves right down to her thighs, it fell in a rippling waterfall to the floor, where the fabric puddled artistically into a flowing train. The top was accentuated by glittering silver straps which ended in artistic embroidery gathered beneath the top of the bodice. It was backless and deep wine red. Although small and private, the ceremony was beautiful and romantic. Lucius and Narcissa said their vows and exchanged rings, and several live doves scattered as the couple exchanged their first kiss as husband and wife; the buxom Isabella was dabbing her eyes with her lace-edged handkerchief by this stage. After the wedding was finished, the newlyweds went to dinner in a small but exclusive Italian restaurant with stunning views.

"Did that appeal to your sensibilities?" Lucius teased as they ate exquisite linguine and drank sparkling champagne.

"Perfectly," Narcissa purred. "And somehow it was enhanced by the thought that hundreds of miles away my mother is grinding her teeth in a theatrically lavish white silk explosion of a church whilst her pompous guests wonder whether they can take their wedding presents home."

"They'd better not," Lucius growled playfully. "The whole point of this exercise was to receive seven coffee machines, fifty silver dessert spoons and absolutely no saucepans or bedsheets."

"Darling, we could afford as many spoons as we pleased anyway," Narcissa laughed affectedly, imitating a rich, snobbish duchess. Lucius laughed loudly, drawing a few glances form the other candlelit couples dining alongside them. Their mocking banter did not quite fit into the intimate couples whispering sweet nothings to each other across untouched plates of food. They were both eating with relish and glowing in the aftermath of their scandal.

"I wonder if Bella is livid or amused?" Narcissa wondered after a few moments.

"If I know Bella, she'll be angry that we upstaged her wedding," Lucius grinned.

"I'm not sure we did," Narcissa said thoughtfully. "Bella had a whirlwind romance with Rabastan Lestrange and then jilted him for his brother Rudolphus and married him less than two weeks later. Mother was absolutely furious until Andromeda married a muggle born and she decided that Bella had at least made a good match. If I had really wanted to infuriate her I would have had to elope with a muggle. It's such a pity she approves of you."

"Hmm, what a pity," Lucius agreed. "I'll have to do something else unforgivable to keep her out of our lives. How does she feel about moustaches?"

"Indifferent," Narcissa sighed. "Don't worry, I think this will qualify quite nicely for the time being. We'll have to settle for calling our first child by some horrific modern name for later."

"Or buy a house in muggle London," Lucius suggested. "And invite our neighbours over for dinner."

"Oh, she wouldn't mind that," Narcissa said airily. A sly smile crept onto her face. "As long as the food was laced with poison."

"How generous of her," Lucius said ironically. "Maybe I will try to reconcile her to being my mother in law after all."

"Do you think they'll be able to track us to send us a howler or will we be safe?" Narcissa queried, not sounding as if she particularly cared either way.

"Who cares?" Lucius said lazily. "Tell you what, if I bring my father home a new set of Italian silk robes and a crate of wine he'll forgive us soon enough."

"You're going to spend our honeymoon buying gifts for your father?" Narcissa pretended to be hurt.

"Don't worry, pet," Lucius smiled wryly. "If we have any money left over, I might get you something too."

For two weeks Narcissa and Lucius enjoyed spending time away from their friends and families, and most of the time from the entire magical community. After ordering an enormous basket of flowers and chocolate for Isabella as a thank you for their wedding, they simply buried themselves in the Venetian culture and each other's company. On the last day of the honeymoon they did amuse themselves by choosing gifts for everyone back home. For Abraxas they bought an Italian espresso machine (he hated coffee), for Cygnus a bottle of painters' white spirits, the only kind he could not drink, and for Druella a hat which greatly resembled a pork pie with abundant lace sprouting from the top (she was avid about maintaining a stylish appearance). For Bellatrix they decided on a short silver knife which was said to have been the assassination weapon of Julius Caesar, and for Andromeda and her husband a book on wizarding genealogy from an ancient antique store with a large inkstain over the section marked 'Black'.

It was extremely gratifying for the newlyweds to breeze back into Malfoy Manor as if they were expected two weeks after their elopement. Their relaxed, smiling faces and abundant suitcases were met by the apoplectic visage of Abraxas Malfoy.


	17. First House

**A foray into the property market for Lucius and Narcissa... Enjoy xx**

-17- First House

As they entered Malfoy Manor they were met with the furious face of Abraxas Malfoy. Lucius did not feel remotely guilty or ashamed, because as he looked his father up and down he saw no signs of a lack of sleep, food or personal care; it was clear that his father had not been worried about their disappearance as most parents would be in these dangerous times. Instead he immediately began to rant about family values.

"I simply don't understand you, Lucius. What you did was a monstrous way to treat the man who put clothes on your back, gave you all the privileges of wealth and rank you could have asked for. Why, if you had disapproved of the match you could have just said so, I would have been more than happy to let you make your own choice, providing it was suitable-," Lucius sputtered a little at this, but remained silent at his father's glare, and let him continue uninterrupted "- but to snub our careful preparations and plans and then _marry her anyway_ in the most suspicious and vulgar manner, it's simply unacceptable."

"Father, calm d-"

"Don't you tell me to calm down! All my friends, the Minister for Magic himself was there, and we're the laughing stock!"

"Father, let me explain. Narcissa and I merely wanted to do it our own way rather than have our lives interfered with. We-"

"Interfering? It's called caring, Lucius. Give it a try sometime!"

"That's rich coming from you. You brought me up to always do things my own way. I didn't want our marriage to start with neither of us in charge of our own lives."

The argument roared on, with Lucius losing more and more of his clinical calm as the minutes rolled by and his father did not wind down. Things got even worse when Abraxas threw a handful of green powder in the fire and hissed out the address of the Blacks. The shrill voice of Druella adding to Abraxas' bellows did nothing to calm the atmosphere, and Narcissa's intervention, very rudely telling her mother that her life was not a plaything and that hadn't she learn that from Bella and Dromeda yet, caused another round of berating which lasted a full fifteen minutes before Druella threw up her arms and collapsed onto a sofa almost in tears.

"The practical upshot is," Lucius said loudly as his father looked to take up where Druella had left off. "Narcissa and I eloped and there isn't anything you can do about it. I'll bet that nobody cares very much and if they do then you've learnt your lesson for interfering with our lives. Now you can either forgive us and we can move on or you can throw us out of the house and disown us, thus earning you even more ridicule and scorn. What is it going to be?"

"Don't you dare speak to your own father like that. Don't for one minute think that I wouldn't disown my own son," Abraxas said dangerously.

"Don't be a fool, father. Narcissa is a pureblood and one day will provide a Malfoy heir, which I thought was what you wanted. If you disowned me, you would be left alone, with no successor. The Malfoy name would be ruined, all for your stupid pride."

"It is already ruined by your lack of respect," returned Abraxas miserably, but the words had done their job. He knew, as did Lucius, that he had no leg to stand on. "I will not tolerate being treated like this," he added feebly. Lucius turned away in disgust.

"Has everybody finished making a scene, now?" he asked sarcastically. "Narcissa and I would rather like to retire."

"Retire? Oh no, boy," Abraxas said, his eyes lighting up as an idea took him. "If you want to start your life free from our intervention, that means you do not get to live under this roof. You may be right, I will not tarnish the family name by disowning you, but you cannot expect the indulgences of your youth if you do not obey my wishes. You can find your own house, Lucius, and much good may your noble Gryffindor scruples do you then."

Lucius could not pretend he was not thrown by his father's decision; he had thought that he held all the cards. He was particularly shocked that Abraxas had accused him of Gryffindor scruples, a great insult to any Malfoy. He did not want to have his disobedience seen as a moral stand, but he did not want to further enrage his father by taking the 'it serves you right' attitude. However, he could see the merits of having their own place, and his father had seemingly overlooked the fact that Lucius' mother Morgana had hated Abraxas with a passion and had therefore left a not inconsiderable fortune to Lucius on her death. Having gambled away only what his father gave him each month, Lucius had plenty with which to purchase a suitable residence for himself and his wife. What he had not anticipated, however, was his and Narcissa's very different attitudes to what their future home should be like.

"It should have a history, of course," Narcissa said dismissively. "And plenty of character. I'll ask for a list of all the registered buildings of historical value in Ottery St Catchpole, Godric's Hollow, Tinworth, Upper-"

"Wait a second," Lucius cut across her. "Those things are all about three storeys high and have fifteen bedrooms, all full of Doxies and Puffskeins. We don't want an ancient old thing like that. I hear there are several decently sized modern houses in Mold on the Wold that sound about right for us."

"I am not living in some crotchety little hamlet with a name like an old shower door," Narcissa said, eyes flashing. "We must have a place with style."

"Very well, my dear, but I would quite like a place with a working shower and indoor toilets, too," Lucius mocked.

"Are you a wizard or not?" Narcissa asked, eyebrows raised.

"I am, but I do not condescend to do common household spells like any common repair-wizard," Lucius remarked, offended. "What is wrong with buying a place which already works properly?"

"They're all so... tacky. And small," decided Narcissa.

"You haven't even seen any yet," Lucius exclaimed. "Next you'll be saying that we should live in a muggle town."

"Well, why not?" asked Narcissa innocently. Lucius looked as if he was about to explode; he had not noticed the slight quirk to her lips which meant that she was winding him up.

"What do you think the Lieutenant or the Dark Lord would have to say if his followers started to coexist peacefully with muggles?" he asked exasperatedly.

"We wouldn't have to 'coexist peacefully'," Narcissa explained. "Of course we would enslave the immediate area."

Lucius looked at her suspiciously. "You're joking, aren't you," he stated flatly. Narcissa laughed evilly and nodded.

"There are a few lovely castles in Scotland quite far removed from society, though," she tried.

"Absolutely not," Lucius said, picturing a crumbling ruin with twelve centuries' worth of algae festering in the moat. "We will have a modern house within a respectable distance of the main wizarding communitues, and it will not be falling down or covered in-"

"Why did I marry a man who was so stubborn?" scowled Narcissa. "I am the woman, I will have to run the home, why do I not get to have a say in choosing it?"

"Because I am going to have to be the master of this crumbling shack you want, and I get to decide what I can and cannot live in," Lucius said firmly.

"What happened to never intentionally harming or upsetting me?" Narcissa challenged, waving her hand, along with the glittering promise ring, in front of Lucius' nose. His expression darkened.

"That doesn't mean you can get your way in everything," he snarled.

"Please, Lucius?" Narcissa wheedled. "Can't we just look at castles?"

In the end Narcissa dragged Lucius around no less than nineteen castles across Britain before deciding that none of them were quite right for them. Whilst he was relieved, Lucius was also tired and grouchy and in need of a firewhisky at the end of the day, and insisted that next day they look at properties in Tinworth, Hogsmeade and Upper Flagley if not Mold on the Wold. Things did not go entirely smoothly, however, as Narcissa was enraptured with an entirely unsuitable little cottage not big enough to house a Goblin, and tried to convince Lucius that they could do an engorgement charm on the place. She then got ideas about a large barn conversion with a bat infestation, which Lucius said he might buy her as a studio but that he would not live there unless hell froze over. It was a huge relief when their beaten-looking estate-wizard ushered them into a small mansion on the outskirts of Hogsmeade which left them both breathless.

It was on the small side for a mansion, which meant that it had only five bedrooms and two reception rooms as well as a study, a cellar and an attic. Its three bathrooms were beautiful and old-fashioned, but with every modern convenience, and Narcissa actually let out a squeal of excitement at a sunken bath in the largest, whilst Lucius noted with relief the large, hot shower in another. The master bedroom appealed to both their sensibilities, the mahogany four-poster practical enough for Lucius, antique enough for Narcissa, and comfortable enough for both. The open beams in the sitting rooms along with ornate wooden panelling and large, sunny windows completed the picture of perfection, and the house came with its own house elf. Lucius turned to Narcissa, whose eyes were shining with enthusiasm.

"What do you think, pet? Is this the new Malfoy residence?" he asked smugly, stroking his hand along the serpentine head on the banister.

"I don't know, I liked that barn better..." said Narcissa thoughtfully. "I'm teasing, dear," she added gently as Lucius buried his head in his hands. "It's perfect."

**A/N I don't know when I'll be drawing the story to a close because I think that the married life of the Malfoys has a lot of potential, and I have lots of exciting ideas still to come so you can look forward to quite a bit more. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and please continue to do so, your comments make my day.**


	18. First Fear

**Thanks to my lovely readers and reviewers. This is a bit of a transitional chapter to lead the way for the next one, which is one of my favourites. Enjoy xx**

-18- First Fear

The very next day, Lucius and Narcissa enlisted the help of a few friends to help them transport their property from their parents' manors and Lucius' Diagon Alley flat, which he was leaving empty for the time being. Of course the help was not really compulsory, seeing as they could, if the fancy took them, make all their property weightless or send it magically to their new home, but Narcissa wanted to make something of a ceremony out of their move, and the couple were planning to sit back and let their friends do the bulk of the heavy moving. Along with Lucius' friends Walden McNair and Antonin Dolohov, the copper-haired twins from Narcissa's photograph, who turned out to be Amy and Alicia Rowle, two friends of Narcissa's from Hogwarts, Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively, turned out to help them. Alicia had recently married Marcus Dolohov, and Amy was making eyes at Antonin whilst doing very little to help shift the heavy boxes, making no secret of her interest. Antonin was doing nothing to discourage her, flexing his muscles showily as he bent to lift a box containing, if he only knew, a heap of Narcissa's scarves and hats. McNair laughed unkindly as Dolohov stumbled under the unexpectedly light weight of the box. Lucius got up lazily from his chair in the corner of the flat to assist the two men, about to make a comment about their incompetence in the presence of pretty women, but the words shrivelled on his tongue as the dark mark blazed on his forearm. From the expressions on the others' faces, they had felt it too, all except the oblivious Rowle twins, who were looking curiously around at the changed faces.

"Well, I'm beat," said McNair, yawning and stretching theatrically. "What's say we do the rest tomorrow?"

"Good idea," agreed Lucius quickly. "Narcissa and I need to go and pack up the rest of our stuff anyway."

"But you said you had already finished," Amy protested, looking wistfully at Antonin.

"We have, but we forgot to do the... things. Um, the books," put in Narcissa quickly. "Thanks so much for your help." She ushered the confused girls to the door as the men conferred quickly.

"It's Him," Mcnair muttered quietly to Lucius and Dolohov. "At the last meeting, you weren't there, Lucius, the Lieutenant accepted that you were on your honeymoon, don't worry, we were told the next summons would be to His side."

"Let's go, then. We shouldn't keep Him waiting," Lucius said brusquely as Narcissa rejoined the group.

They apparated together to the meeting point, where the atmosphere was immediately recognisable as one of tangible tension. No less than seven others were gathered there, and Lucius spied the Lieutenant as a part of the audience, his head bowed like the rest. In the centre of the room was Lord Voldemort, his face unmasked. It was the first time Lucius had ever seen him face to face. He was tall and dark-haired, his face white as ice and waxy, his looks long lost, his features twisted into cold, harsh lines. This was not important, though. He radiated pure power, and his authority made the Lieutenant look like a House Elf by comparison.

"Welcome, friends," he said softly. The words were crystal clear even in the far corners of the room. They spoke of total command. "Some of you I am meeting for the first time, but I trust you are all loyal and skilful. Mulciber will have ensured this already, and will have shown you what happens to traitors, I hope." He gestured towards the Lieutenant. Mulciber? Thought Lucius. I haven't heard that name before. He is the Dark Lord's Lieutenant?

"I have, my Lord," Lieutenant Mulciber murmured reverently. "They are all strong, all worthy."

"Let us hope so," Voldemort said coldly. "Death Eaters, I know how you crave enjoyable tasks, the exacting of justice on presumptuous mudbloods tainting our society. But my plan involves more than just this. To purify the wizarding world, we must recruit those of pure magical heritage. We must enlist not only wizards but magical creatures onto our side. Today, I want a group to win over to our side some very powerful magical creatures. I trust you are all familiar with kelpies?" Lucius searched his brain and drew a blank. Magical creatures were not his strong point.

"Nobody?" Voldemort whispered, amused. "Has the great Dumbledore taught his old pupils nothing? Very well, let me educate you. Kelpies are water-horses, beautiful and very powerful, nigh untameable. They lure the unwary to them with their charms and devour them. They are also very strong, excellent for carrying heavy loads over long distances, but they are proud. You will have to win their allegiance before they will consent to join our cause. It would be unwise to send many of my followers after them, since a few intelligent men should do. I need three suitable agents, and at least one must be female. Like unicorns, kelpies will often respond better to a beautiful woman.

"I will do this for you, Lord," Bellatrix Lestrange tore off her hood and bowed low at Voldemort's feet. A pale finger lifted her chin.

"Bellatrix," Voldemort whispered. She shivered at the caress in his cold voice. "You are a faithful and devoted follower, and you have done well in your previous missions. The murder of the mudblood Ferrier... exquisite. However, I think this task requires a less, ah, zealous hand. How about your pretty sister. Narcissa, is it not?

"M-my Lord," stammered Narcissa, stumbling forward.

"I believe I have to congratulate you on your recent marriage to Lucius," he spoke softly, a slight hint of amusement colouring his voice. "A pureblood match, very good. But I was desolate that it took you away from our cause for so long. You missed out on so much fun."

"I am sorry, My Lord. Let us make amends," said Lucius, boldly stepping forward to join Narcissa. "We will undertake this mission, that is, should you deem us suitable."

"Admirable, Lucius," mused Voldemort. "Yes, you would do very nicely. ButI fear that you wife may hold more charms to you than the mission. This ring," wandlessly, Voldemort drew Narcissa's hand aloft, eliciting a small gasp from her, "carries a strong magical signature. A promise, in fact, to hold your wife's needs above all others. Can I trust you to work with her, and, should anything go wrong, to put the mission before her safety?"

Lucius was dumbstruck. He had no answer to this query which would not land him in serious trouble. In this moment, he did not know whose wrath was more terrifying to him; the Dark Lord's or Narcissa Malfoy's.

"We are both servants to your cause, My Lord," Lucius murmured finally. Voldemort's lips stretched into a cold, thin smile.

"I see. I believe that your loyalty to me over your dear wife has yet to be proven, Lucius. Maybe I will send you on this mission together. And maybe I will send my loyal Bellatrix, whose husband knows his place, to report back to me." Lucius' heart slid out of his ribcage and landed with a sucking splat in his left boot. "Or maybe I will send Severus, who is new to the fold, and will learn much from your example. Yes, I believe that will be best." Lucius' heart crept embarrassedly back into his chest and began to beat again.

"Very well. Severus, Lucius, Narcissa my dear, you will go tonight to Loch Assynt, where five kelpies guard the shores. Their allegiance is to the MacLeods of Ardvreck Castle, an old pureblood clan turned to folly centuries ago and rank with muggle blood. You will win their allegiances and bring their word back to me. Be warned, I shall know if you fail."

"It will be done, My Lord," said Lucius, with more strength in his voice than he really felt. This was a seemingly impossible task, and taking care of Narcissa would lead to both of their deaths. He would have to let her fend for herself, and what was more, that small whelp Severus Snape, who was only eighteen, would come with them. Voldemort assigned the other Death Eaters various tasks, and Lucius tried to be grateful that he was not an envoy to the Giants, but the cold sense of dread born from being asked the impossible washed over him, and his legs were heavy as lead as he apparated with Narcissa and Severus back to the half-furnished house to discuss tactics.


	19. First Instincts

**I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Everyone seemed to like the Snape cameo so I hope you approve of the poor bloke in this chapter. Thanks for the lovely reviews, please keep them coming!**

-19- First Instincts

"Right, we need to get this planned out before noon; we go in tonight," said Lucius to his audience of two, putting on a tone of authority and not looking Narcissa in the eye. They were perched on packing boxes and both looked as pale and afraid as he felt. "I know Ardvreck Castle vaguely. It has muggle-repelling wards, I believe it looks like ruins to them, and there are rumours that it is haunted. The kelpie population explains this; if they are guardians then they also help protect the Castle from interferences from other wizarding clans. The MacLeods... Severus, can you grab the genealogy? It's in... one of these, um, seventeen boxes here..." Lucius trailed off hopelessly as they looked around at the huge, heavy boxes.

"Don't bother," Severus said impatiently. "The MacLeods have been at Ardvreck since the sixteenth century or thereabouts, but as the Dark Lord said, their bloodline is weakened. The guardians will not have such a strong allegiance to them, since they are drawn to pure, strong magic." Performing a complicated movement with his wand, Severus conjured a heavy tome, which he opened and scanned with narrowed, beady eyes shining with intelligence. "The Dark Lord spoke truly. Kelpies are drawn to purity, and that means beautiful women as well as strong magic." Lucius blinked at the quick mind of the young man before him before taking the thread of authority from him.

"I see. Then Narcissa, you should go in first to talk to them. We need to offer them an incentive to join us. Explain our cause and deliver the Dark Lord's offer." He still could not meet her eyes. They planned for the next few hours, researching their targets and planning their approach. As afternoon approached Narcissa sent Severus out to get sandwiches. Scowling, he obeyed, and Narcissa seized the opportunity to turn to Lucius, eyes blazing.

"Lucius, what does this mean? I don't understand the Dark Lord's motives," she murmured urgently after casting a hasty secrecy charm.

"I'm not sure.I think this is his way of punishing us for not returning immediately to his side, for spending so long away from his mission. He wants to prove our loyalty and to- to hurt me for giving my loyalty to anyone but him," Lucius choked.

"But ours is a pureblood marriage. We follow him. Why would he punish us for that? Lucius, what are you going to do?" From Narcissa's look Lucius knew she understood the truth; he would have to make a choice.

"I honour my promises," he said determinedly. He did not specify to whom, and Narcissa noticed this, but she let it slip.

"I trust you," she said simply, kissing him fleetingly on the lips. "Be careful."

"The same to you," Lucius said sternly. "I don't want to lose something so pretty. You would be quite hard to replace." Narcissa smiled miserably at the feeble joke, and was about to say something else when Severus entered, muttering under his breath about House Elves and how he wasn't one, carrying three turkey and mayo subs.

"Oh, Severus, I don't like turkey," Narcissa complained, catching Lucius' eye and smiling. "Be a dear and run out and get me a chicken one, instead." Lucius snorted as Severus' pale face twisted in rage and humiliation. He slammed the door as he exited the room.

"I should have asked for a soda," said Lucius sadly as he heard Snape banging through the house underneath them.

"Don't push the poor boy, dear," admonished Narcissa. "I only wanted to tell you that we'll have to be careful not to show any signs of disloyalty to the Dark Lord before him. He may be on this mission to learn, but I am sure he is meant to learn about more than just kelpies. Our loyalty is being tested and we must pass the test."

"I know," Lucius whispered as the little stormcloud named Severus came in again, holding a chicken and salad sandwich like a weapon in his hand.

At seven sharp, the two wizards and the beautiful witch departed from the Malfoys' in Hogsmeade and arrived seconds later on a deserted hillside from which they could see the Loch and the Castle. The dreary silence of their surroundings sent a chill down Lucius' spine, and he could sense the powerful magic of the place.

"Narcissa?" Lucius invited. Sending a meaningful look in Lucius' direction, Narcissa, clad in a white dress, walked down to the side of the Loch, and waded in to her calves. Lucius and Severus remained crouched, hidden but within earshot. But they could not see what Narcissa saw or hear what she heard.

Narcissa was cold and anxious, standing in chilly water and waiting for a hostile creature to try and attack her. It was a relief when instead there was a warm ray of sunshine. It lit up the Loch and the land around it, lending it a mysterious beauty. She had a strong desire to stay here forever. If only Lucius had listened to her and bought that castle... Her eye caught a glimmer a bit further out in the water. There was a small island a few metres out that she had not noticed before, covered in greenery and with a couple of trees. There was something else, too. Her heart clenched in her chest. It was a man. He was entirely naked, and his muscled body gleamed in the sunlight. His hair was slick and blonde, and dripping with moisture as if he had just had a swim in the water. He looked quite a bit like Lucius, but his eyes were a deep, glittering blue.

"Hello," he said. "What brings you here?" Narcissa's mouth went dry. His voice was like syrup, warm and sweet, but deep and sensuous. She took a few steps towards the island.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am Cai. I live here. I don't recognise you, but you are very welcome here. I like new faces." Narcissa felt herself blushing. A warm sense of belonging crept into her chest. She drew a little closer.

"You are very kind. I was afraid. I thought this place was protected."

"Oh, it is. But you don't need to worry about that. I would not let someone as lovely as you come to harm. You must be cold. Why don't you come out of the water?" The suggestion was inviting. Narcissa made her way towards the island, grateful to be getting out of the chilly water.

"You're a witch," Cai said. It was not a question.

"I am," Narcissa acknowledged.

"I know. I can tell. I can feel your power. Your magical energy is strong. You must be a pureblood."

"Yes," Narcissa said, surprised but pleased that her pureblood status was smiled upon. She reached the island, and began to scramble up the steep bank. "I believe that magical lines should remain pure. It keeps our power clean and strong." She was struggling with the steep angle.

"Let me help you," Cai offered in his syrup voice. He stood up, tall and glorious, and offered a hand. Narcissa took it gratefully, and managed to get onto the higher land with ease.

"Thank you," she smiled. Cai smiled, too, and kept her hand in his. Slightly uncomfortable, Narcissa tried to pull it away. Cai's smile widened, and she realised her hand was stuck, fastened in his.

"Let me go," she cried. Cai laughed out loud.

"You are a witch," he mocked. "A pureblooded witch. Let yourself go." Narcissa noticed that his hair was still saturated as if he had just climbed out of the water. Suspicion suddenly dawned.

"Specialis revelio," she shouted, her wand out in a heartbeat. Suddenly the sunlight faded, the island was gone, and she was on the back of a tall, strong horse, her hand glued to its mane, her legs fastened astride its gleaming white flank. She felt a flutter of panic. She had been tricked. The kelpie, Cai, spoke again in human tongue.

"Purebloods are always the easiest to fool. You are all so arrogant."

"Yet you work for them," Narcissa challenged, pulling her wits together sharply. "You work for a family whose blood is no longer pure but contaminated, weak. Why do you enslave yourself to lesser beings?"

"We serve nobody," Cai said, scandalised. "We guard the Loch. We allow the MacLeods passage because they respect our superiority. People like you, my beauty, do not get such an honour."

"Passage over a small, remote loch," Narcissa tried again, her heart sinking at the shattering of the illusion that these beasts were controlled by wizards. They had clearly been misinformed. "I could offer you much more than that. The Dark Lord could give you much more." The waterhorse reared onto its hind legs and charged deeper into the loch. Narcissa shrieked.

-

Lucius and Severus had watched with horror as Narcissa was bewitched. Not being a part of the illusion, they saw her converse calmly and climb willingly onto the horse, then heard her desperate bargaining. Whilst she was bargaining Lucius forced himself to remain hidden, not to charge out to her aid. He reminded himself that their mission was to capture the waterhorses, and that hexing them to save Narcissa was not an option. When the horse plunged into the deep water with her on its back, though, Lucius could remain hidden no longer. He dashed towards the loch, dragging Severus behind him, and called out to the beast, making it scream to a halt before Narcissa was drowned. Her terrified face was still visible, and she was submerged only to her shoulders. The deep blue eyes of the waterhorse were all that could be seen above the surface.

"Creature," Lucius bellowed. "You take what is not yours when you can be given what is your right. We do not seek to control you, but to gain a guide, a magical ally. We fight for all you hold dear. Why do you fight us when you can join us?"

"We do not serve wizards." A chorus of voices hissed this statement, and Lucius looked around to see four more sets of eyes in the water, rising to reveal four glossy black coats on each side of the white one which held Narcissa.

"We do not ask you to serve us, but to help us as free agents and be rewarded in return," Lucius shouted, trying to keep his eye on Narcissa and to address all five of the kelpies at once.

"We seek no reward. Leave us be, wizard. We have claimed our prize."

"We fight to keep the magical world pure. We want to preserve the magical bloodlines, including yours, creature, and your way of life. The current leaders seek to control and to dilute, to regulate creatures such as yourselves. We would ensure your freedom if you will smile upon our cause."

"You do not have the power, wizard. See how easily one of your kind has fallen into our trap."

"We have the power, all of us, together. You are powerful creatures, and we need your friendship to preserve you and ourselves." Lucius' voice was hoarse from shouting but he kept the desperation out of it as he spoke.

"We have taken our prize," the kelpies repeated, sinking back down into the lake. Lucius was defeated. He had played his only cards. The only bargaining chip he had left was his own life as the water began to close over Narcissa's nose and mouth.

"She is not yours to take. She is bound to me by a bond more powerful than magic," he roared.

"By what, wizard? How do you lay your claim?" the white kelpie, obviously the leader, rose once again out of the water.

"She is bound to me by love. I love her and I have promised to let no harm come to her."

"Then you fail in your promise," the kelpie said dismissively, but it did not sink.

"I will not let you take her," Lucius shouted. "The magic which binds her to me is more powerful than you. Let me take her place if you will not release her."

"You surprise me, wizard. Why would you exchange lives for a weak one like this? Your cause will lose a warrior and keep a lamb." Cai's voice was curious and bordering on conversational.

"Narcissa is no lamb. You will let her go." Lucius stood his ground firmly.

"No human has ever escaped from us once they have been caught. It is not in our nature to give favours," Cai remarked. "But your eloquence and your devotion impress me, and your sentiments ring true. I am undecided. Your valour is worth something, but we cannot answer all of your requests."

"What about this?" Snape spoke up for the first time, eyeing Lucius nastily. "You let the girl go or you give us your word of allegiance. You cannot be expected to do both. I understand this. Let Lucius choose which favour you will bestow."

**Sorry for the cliffie, I promise I'll let you off the hook soon!**


	20. First Choice

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews, I enjoyed hearing your guesses and I really hope you like my version. Now, the truth is revealed...**

-20- First Choice

"A choice. You release Narcissa or you join our cause. Do you agree?" Severus challenged. Lucius tried to find something suave to say to save the situation, but all he could think of was to scream and shout and refuse. His heart throbbed painfully. This was the choice he never wanted to make. A sudden thought occurred to him; had the Dark Lord known something like this would happen? Was this really and truly a punishment? He had no idea what he would do. There was no way he could decide. Duty over love or love over duty? If he chose Narcissa, chances were, the Dark Lord would kill them both. If he chose the Dark Lord, a part of him would die with Narcissa. He doubted he could live with himself if he let her die.

"We are dealing with Lucius, small wizard," Cai said scathingly. "We are not interested in your personal quarrels. We do not care for your ultimatum. We will not be told what to do." Snape looked abashed and Lucius let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. There was still hope.

"Wizard Lucius, we do not bow to the magic of wizards," Cai addressed Lucius haughtily. "But I am staggered by the power of your love for this woman. You are correct. She is not ours to take when she is bound by such strong bonds. Your magic love is stronger even than our power." The waterhorse strode, flank shining, mane dripping, to the edge of the loch where Lucius stood. "Your woman was correct. We once before made a pact with humans, the MacLeods, who showed us the power of love and respect. They sought not to control us but to live with us, side by side, and share their knowledge with us. This was their land but they let us come here and grow strong, and asked nothing from us in return but that we did not harm them and did not let harm come to them. This was long ago, but we still hold to that pact. You possess this same trait of love and respect and it intrigues me. I give you back what is yours and for your bravery and loyalty I will give you my word, wizard Lucius, that we will be your friends hereafter."

Lucius was breathless. This was an unexpected turn of events. He was astounded that so soon after everything seemed lost he was gaining what he desired with such ease.

"I don't know what to say," he said quite honestly. "I am honoured by your generosity."

"We bestow our favour rarely, and only on those who are worthy," Cai said. "Our friendship is for you and yours only, not to all wizardkind. Grant us your guardianship and we will grant you ours. We will ensure that no harm comes to you as long as we may roam free."

"It is done," Lucius agreed. Cai bowed his great head and breathed over Lucius through his wide nostrils. A warm breeze tingling with power blew over him. Cai knelt and let Narcissa slip from his back. She immediately went to Lucius and clung to his hand. Lucius bowed gravely to the kelpie, which lent forward and imprinted a golden hoofprint on his chest. It glowed there a few moments before fading.

"Farewell, friend Lucius," the kelpie said as is retreated back into the centre of the loch.

"Farewell," breathed Lucius, bewildered, as the five heads sank below the surface leaving it smooth and still, as if nobody was there.

"Our Hogsmeade manor. Now," Lucius said quickly to Snape, who was standing with an inscrutable expression on his face. The three apparated back amongst the packing boxes and stood facing each other.

"We got what we went for," Lucius said carefully. "Our mission was a success."

"But- what happened? You bargained for her life, not for the Dark Lord," hissed Severus angrily. "You are a traitor, Malfoy."

"We got what we went for," Lucius repeated sharply. "I did not notice you, Snape, acquiring any allegiances. I obtained for the Dark Lord what he asked of me. I told that creature what he needed to hear to get what I needed, that is all. If you dare to tell anyone otherwise I will end you... painfully," he warned. Snape's pale face tightened, and his jaw twitched.

"You were lucky," he grunted finally. "You had best make sure that next time you are seen to put the Dark Lord first." He spun from the room, and Narcissa and Lucius waited in silence until they heard the front door close with a sharp, irritable snap. Then Narcissa turned to Lucius.

"How did you know what to say?" she asked reverently.

"I didn't," confessed Lucius. "I just knew I couldn't live with myself if I let you die. We were lucky."

"Then you- what you said was-" Narcissa whispered.

"I lied to Snape, yes. Are you so surprised?" asked Lucius teasingly, but his eyes were serious.

"I'm sorry," whispered Narcissa. "I was a fool. Their magic is powerful, and more subtle than we gave them credit for."

"I don't blame you. We shouldn't have sent you in like that," reassured Lucius. He looked at the clock. It was only ten o'clock. It felt like days ago that they had been unpacking with their friends, but it was only that morning. "We need to inform the Dark Lord of our success," he said softly.

"Tonight? Do we have to?" Narcissa said reluctantly, looking wistfully at the coffee pot balancing precariously on a stack of unloaded books.

"Best get it over with," Lucius said.

Taking her hand, Lucius apparated them both to Voldemort's headquarters to bring him the news. He was pleased by their success, and Lucius noted with suspicion that he seemed quite unsurprised by it. Lucius kept to himself the exact unfolding of events, but he got the shrewd impression that Voldemort knew, had even planned for things to go the way they had. He shuddered as he left the chamber at the farsightedness of his Lord. He used people, used the ways their minds worked, and Lucius was pretty sure he had used his connection to Narcissa to win the kelpies. He would never know for sure, of course, but he would not underestimate the wisdom or the calculating intelligence of Lord Voldemort.

As he and Narcissa lay in their hastily made-up bed, holding tightly on to each other, cups of hot chocolate on the table beside them, Narcissa asked him something, her voice small, drawing comfort from his presence and his strong arms around her, his hand stroking her soft hair.

"Lucius?"

"Mmm?"

"If- if you had to choose, if you had to do Snape's ultimatum- what would you decide? I know I mean a lot to you, you proved that today, but if you had to choose between me and the Dark Lord's orders...?" he voice tailed off guiltily, a part of her ashamed that she had asked the question, knowing that it was not fair and that Lucius loved her. A part of her, though, waited breathlessly for the answer as Lucius let out a slow breath.

"I don't know," he said finally. "I don't know."


	21. First Death

**A slightly longer chapter to make up for the last, short one. I hope you enjoy it, it's a mix of happy and sad, as most of it will be from now on. **

-21- First Death

The weeks following the mission to the loch were quiet and peaceful, the unanswered question of Lucius' first loyalties lying abandoned with the empty packing boxes, causing only the slightest of tensions in the Malfoy household. Narcissa had actually been astounded that Lucius had put her life first or even bothered pleading for her, putting his own life in jeopardy in the process. It was a surprisingly noble action and one she had not expected. Herself a Slytherin, she was accustomed to the mentality which put your own life before all others. It was something she had never fully experienced before, to feel that her life was so strongly bound to another's, to the point that for them to be hurt was to be hurt yourself. It gave her a new respect for him and a new wonder for the seven-stoned ring that glittered ever brighter on her finger, more valuable to her even than the gold band on her other hand. Of course he had made her promise never to breathe a word of his so-called nobility to any other living soul, but this did not lessen his gesture in any way. To her it made him even more indescribably beautiful and perfect, although she teased him about being a soppy Gryffindor at heart whenever she felt the need to annoy him.

The time was passed in sinking into the groove of married life. Lucius watched in admiration as Narcissa and their new House Elf flitted around the house putting in homely, feminine touches here and there, none of which included lace doilies or small, functionless crystal bottles. He was pleased to note that there was little of Druella in his new wife, and she felt no desire to entertain stuffy relatives night and day, having over only a few close friends of whom Lucius fully approved, as they seemed to sate her appetite for conversations about clothes and domestic affairs. Of course, life with a spirited woman like Narcissa could not go entirely smoothly, and several of his habits were ruthlessly banished within days of their cohabitation. The Playwizard magazines had to be hidden and glamoured to avoid their incineration, and no longer was he allowed to put his feet up on the coffee table. Only one glass of firewhisky a night was permitted except on special occasions, and if he wanted McNair or Travers over, he had to wait until Narcissa was out of the house.

Lucius could find little fault with Narcissa, however. Once they had chosen their house, he let her have entirely her own way. He indulged her taste for odd and expensive clothing, allowed her free reign in choosing their meals, and let her do all the work when it came to choosing furniture and decor for the various rooms. His only stipulation in this department was that he be allowed to have a 'man-room', his refuge for whatever reason, which he could furnish entirely to his own taste. It was fairly innocuous, the main difference being the inherent masculinity of the space. The one little detail he insisted on, though, was the framed sketch he had made of her all that time ago, twigs in her hair and scowl on her face, which he placed on the wall of his private study. She let this one go with good grace, smiling indulgently about the whims of her husband.

Of course the visits of their parents to their new home rocked their boat a little, but after Druella proclaimed it satisfactory in size and appearance for people of their status and Abraxas gruffly professed his pride in Lucius and admitted that he had changed very much for the better after his marriage, the couple were able to settle down in peace. It was quickly turning to winter, and Lucius was surprised at his contentment to sit by the log fire with his wife and just talk, or read, or make love. Of course in the winter months the Manor also played host to a number of meetings, planning further missions and plotting for power. Lucius had managed to Imperius several useful people, and envoys to the giants had also been fruitful, leading to a Death Eater raid in a muggle town in November. All in all, things were looking pretty rosy in the first few months of their marriage. Lucius and Narcissa spent their first Christmas in the Manor, inviting fifteen guests, close friends and Death Eaters, and were served a sumptuous meal by their little House Elf, who Lucius thought was a huge improvement on the crawling little things at his father's Manor. Being master of his own house was a role Lucius played perfectly. He and Narcissa were the image of a perfect pureblood couple. The only downside to this was that the in-laws were already hinting about an heir. As the year drew to a close and 1979 began, Lucius and Narcissa found themselves not celebrating in style with their friends or wreaking some well-earned havoc on muggle celebrations, but sitting at a formal dinner with their parents, the only sound the cold chinking of expensive cutlery on even more expensive plates. It came as almost a relief when Druella's cold voice broke the silence.

"It has been almost three months now, has it not?" she enquired, as if she did not remember the day of the non-wedding with perfect clarity.

"And five days," Narcissa replied.

"Indeed. I have it from the Rosiers that you are quite the proper pureblood couple. I am glad to hear it. I only wish you would invite to dine with you some of my old friends. They would be delighted to see you, you know," Druella went on. Narcissa scowled, and Lucius knew that she was itching to say that Griselda Marchbanks and all those other fusty old moneypots could kiss their own arses from now on. He intervened before the words could exit her mouth.

"As would we, to be sure, but married life is quite hectic, we are only just settling into a routine."

"Ah excellent," boomed Abraxas. "I remember your own dear mother, my boy. She took a long while to accept the responsibilities of a pureblood wife. Surprisingly long, considering her familial background. It slowed down proceedings quite a bit, unfortunately. I'm delighted you are progressing so fast."

"Oh... good," Lucius said absently, wondering what his father was talking about. "Yes, Narcissa is a natural. Excellent taste in curtains. Ow." Narcissa had kicked him under the table at this last comment.

"I suppose it won't be long then," observed Druella. "Until you tell us we are to be grandparents?" Lucius' knife clattered to his plate at this statement. He had walked right into it. He took a sip of wine to calm down, and began to choke.

"Anapneo," said Narcissa coolly as her husband turned purple in the face. "Dear mother, we have not talked about children just yet. We may be pureblood descendants, but we are not breeding machines. We will reproduce as and when we are ready."

"That's all very well, but we are not getting any younger," Druella said pointedly. "I want to be able to hold my first grandchild before I die."

"Don't try the emotional guilt trip on me, mother," Narcissa dismissed. "You're not going to die any time soon."

"How do you know that?" Druella snapped. "Nothing is guaranteed in these dangerous times. It is your duty to produce and heir as soon as possible."

"Then of course I will jump straight to it," Narcissa replied sarcastically. "Lucius, darling, do stop choking long enough to imbue me with your seed. Mother demands it." Lucius, who had just stopped gasping for air, gave a snort of amusement and promptly began to cough again. Narcissa looked smugly at her mother's furious face, and took another delicate bite of food.

On returning home, Lucius awkwardly tried to bring up the subject in private.

"Cissy, dear? You don't, er, want to, er, I mean-"

"I don't think we should have children yet, Lucius. Not while we are needed so by the Dark Lord. What impression would that give? Besides, I think I'd like you all to myself for a while," Narcissa smiled serenely.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Lucius sighed, putting his arm around his wife and planting a kiss on top of her head. "I don't think I could handle being a father just yet. You're quite enough of a handful."

"I beg your pardon? I'm an asset if anything. If it weren't for me we wouldn't even have curtains. I saw your flat in Diagon Alley. It was a dungheap," Narcissa argued, pretending to be offended. Lucius smirked.

"My dear Narcissa, I married you for that very reason," he teased.

"Oh, Lucius Malfoy, you will pay for saying that was the only reason," Narcissa grinned provocatively.

"Oh, sex slave goes without saying," Lucius amended in a serious tone of voice.

"Oh, so you've finally hit on the reason that I married you," Narcissa laughed. Lucius groaned in defeat. He felt his argument skills had really gone downhill since his marriage to the sharp-minded Narcissa. With her smiling prettily in front of him, though, he could not seem to care.

Both Lucius and Narcissa should have known, however, that pride comes before a fall, and both of them had been stubbornly independent and disrespectful to their parents for long enough, in fate's point of view. Just two weeks after New Year's, their luck began to change, and their carelessly balanced lives began to tilt and teeter, forcing them to alter their priorities and selfish impulses to disregard the rest of the world. The first portent of this was the news of Cygnus Black's sudden death through heart failure. Lucius came down the stairs to find Narcissa in tears, holding a letter written on black-bordered paper. It was a formal obituary cut from the newspaper, dating the death to two days ago. Druella had not even bothered to inform her daughter, and was rubbing her face in how out of the loop she was.

"I can't believe she would do that," Lucius said, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Can't you?" Narcissa asked harshly, pushing his arm away. "She's a Slytherin, too, Lucius. And she's right. I've been so involved in my own life I've been neglecting my duty to my parents."

"That's not true," Lucius protested. "Your mother is being unfair. How could you possibly know about this unless you were told?"

"The point is I haven't been a dutiful daughter, and my mother is punishing me for it, cutting me out from the important things. I wasn't there to support her, to say goodbye. I didn't go to the funeral." Narcissa's voice broke and Lucius started forward but held himself back as she wrapped her own arms around her chest.

"You've done nothing wrong," he said instead. "All you've done is put your own life before your mother's. There's nothing wrong with that. You shouldn't have to be a martyr to her."

"No, but I didn't have to rub it in her face," Narcissa contradicted. "I was going to marry you anyway, I was so selfish not to let her do it her way. What harm would it have done me?"

"It was the principle, Cissy, we both agreed. It was about standing up to her, not letting her control your life. Do you want to have a child just to please her? Have tea and cake with the Minister of Magic?" demanded Lucius. He wanted to tell her that the parental defiance bit had mostly been her idea, but he didn't want to upset her any further with this unprecedented fit of conscience.

"No, but I want to know when something happens to my family," Narcissa whispered. "Damn it, Lucius, they're still my family and I've been putting them too far down on my priorities. You admit yourself you don't know if you put me above the Dark Lord or not. I've been putting you before everything and look what its cost me. We both have our duties, and we've been neglecting them for each other. That's all very well, but I don't want to cause irreparable damage to prove a point. From now on I won't let my family be spat on by us." With that she left the house, leaving Lucius reeling from the unfairness. Since when was all of that his idea?

But it made him too feel slightly ashamed for his treatment of their parents, and it struck the core of his beliefs more than he would have liked. Cygnus' demise made him feel powerless in his inability to prevent death, though proficient by now at causing it. Without his realisation, a hairline crack had formed the day he had admitted to divided loyalties, and invisibly it had widened as they had casually alienated everyone else who mattered to them, when they had put their own needs above their duties. Lucius accepted that if he had not been so falsely secure in his relationship with Narcissa he would have conceded that it was a pureblood's duty to provide an heir. Had Narcissa secretly wanted a child but lied to make sure Lucius was kept happy, putting him before her own needs and the needs of her parents? Lucius only knew that a crack had formed between them. It was Lucius' greatest fear that one day this crack would become a chasm.


	22. First Disaster

**Oh dear, I'm so sorry I haven't updated. First I had to drag myself back to uni, which sucks, then my internet refused to work and I spent about 12 fruitless hours trying to fix it before it randomly decided to work again for no reason. I do hope this chapter makes up for it, thanks for all the alerts and reviews, and I'll try to keep my updates frequent although I'll have to start thinking about work now... Please review to make me feel better :)**

-22- First Disaster

Following the death of her father, Narcissa became a different person, or at least, a new aspect of her that Lucius had not seen before was brought out into the harsh light of day. Narcissa had a conscience, something which Lucius was not overly burdened with himself. Instead of waking up to her peacefully sleeping form or to her melodic singing coming from the kitchen below as she flitted about making freshly squeezed orange juice or reading the paper, he woke up to an empty bed and went down to a pale, silent apparition with dark circles and a distant look. He had tried to talk to her about it and even tried to get her to see a healer or take a dreamless sleep potion, but she refused adamantly. He had even tried in desperation to use his very own brand of cold logic to get her out of her funk, pointing out that she had not cared much about her father when he was alive, and now was far too late to go regretting her actions. This had not gone down well. As a last resort, Lucius had suggested that they go and see her mother to try and sort things out. To this Narcissa had reluctantly agreed, and Lucius, dressed in an uncomfortably formal black robe, was dreading accompanying her today. His heart sank when he saw Narcissa, who was clad from head to toe in plain, elegant black, looking far too plain and normal for his liking. He didn't like the way she had changed, become a conventional witch, self-pitying, moping and would-be dutiful to the whims of her psychotic mother. It wasn't the woman he loved, the woman he had married, and he was having a hard time with her, unable to relate to her troubles and missing their old companionship. An inherently selfish man, he disliked the inconvenience of grief, especially grief he saw so little need for. He found himself at a loss to begin bridging the gap between them, and he disliked feeling any sort of helplessness. He greeted his wife miserably as she approached him. She didn't say a word but accompanied him to the fireplace where they flooed straight to the Black residence.

Druella was sitting alone, clad in theatrical widows' weeds, with a black lace veil reaching to her ankles. Lucius thought she looked far more like Narcissa than Narcissa did at the moment. He knew Druella was in no emotional grief over her husband's death; he had been an annoyance to her for years, and she could only possibly be milking this to gain sympathy and emotionally blackmail her daughter. Lucius kept this thought to himself as he regarded his mother-in-law. As both the women stood stock still, Lucius made the first move, bowing to kiss his mother in law's hand and murmuring his 'heartfelt' condolences. She thanked him coldly and gestured for them to sit. The silence stretched on, and Lucius began to start some idle topic of conversation when Narcissa cut across him.

"Why?" she asked her mother simply. "Why did you not tell me?"

"I had no idea you cared," Druella replied. Narcissa flinched.

"Don't be petty, mother. Of course I care," she whispered.

"Then why did you never show it?" Druella asked baldly. "I brought you up, Narcissa, gave you everything you could have wished for. I found you the perfect husband, and first you refuse to even see him, then you insist on wearing extremely unsuitable outfits, giving him I don't know what sort of impression. When for some reason he decides to take you anyway I charitably forgave you your indiscretions and stubbornness to plan a beautiful ceremony for you, made sure that there were plenty of influential names there, in short gave you every opportunity to set you up in life, and you humiliate me and throw it in my face. Any mother less loving than me would have disowned you there and then but no, I put all that behind me and come to visit, try and reforge our relationship, give you another chance. You refused point blank to do your duty by me, which you know in pureblood society is tantamount to wanting nothing more to do with me or your family. What reason have you given me to think that you care at all what goes on?"

"If I died," Narcissa said, her voice remarkably even after this outburst. "Would you not want Lucius to inform you? Should I have a child, would you not want to know of its birth?"

"I have no reason to believe you would tell me since you did not tell me you were going to run off with this boy," Druella retorted, gesturing to an open-mouthed Lucius.

"Because you tried to control everything I did," Narcissa cried out. "You're still trying to manipulate me by excluding me from my father's death. Oh!" Narcissa's eyes widened as she felt a scorching pain on her forearm. Lucius' hand clapped to his own at the same moment, and he quickly stood and intervened.

"Mrs Black, Narcissa is just overwrought, as I'm sure you are too. We will achieve nothing through accusing each other. Maybe we should return when everyone is calmer..."

"No, Lucius. You go. I wish to finish this," Narcissa instructed. Lucius blinked.

"But Cissy, darling-"

"Go, Lucius," she repeated. With one last desperate glance at her Lucius left to see what the Dark Lord required, hoping his wife's absence would go unremarked.

-

It is official," the Lieutenant said to his audience of seven Death Eaters. More often than not they would now deal with Voldemort himself, having risen significantly in his ranks after their various experiences and successes, but his second, Mulciber, still gave them instructions on occasions. "A group named The Order of the Phoenix, led by none other than Albus Dumbledore, is leading a resistance against our noble efforts to rid wizardkind of impurities. Although I have no doubt that there feeble efforts will not touch the Dark Lord, he wishes us to further investigate, even to draw these people out in the open, provoke them, if you will, and take out their numbers. After identifying more members, we hope to be able to get a spy into their midst, or to convince one of their own to pass information to us. I will be organising a raid on a safe but public place in order to evoke a response from this Order. We are aware of or suspect the identity of a handful of members, those closest to the fool Dumbledore. These are Lily and James Potter, Minerva McGonogall, Dorcas Meadows, Marlene and Ethelbert McKinnon and Rubeus Hagrid. We also suspect the involvement of the Potters' friends Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew along with the Prewett brothers, now deceased and the Longbottoms. We have some information on a few of these and other cells of Death Eaters will be planning attacks on their homes and families.

"I will not be leading this raid, but you have been chosen as the most competent members of our group to go with the Dark Lord himself to the home of Lily and James Potter, a newlywed couple very close to Dumbledore. The aim is the identification of those who come to their aid, any deaths are a bonus."

Lucius' mind span. Before now only rumours of a yang group to the Death Eater's yin had been heard, now they had been told a formidable force was moving against them. The Potters – they had been in Severus' year at Hogwarts. Lily Potter... that must be Lily Evans as was. As far as Lucius had been aware, she and Potter had loathed each other. He had seen her with Severus a great deal of the time, and had even considered her quite attractive in looks and Slytherin in nature, for a muggle-born, whereas Potter had been as pathetically Gryffindor as they came, for all that his best friend was a Black. Oh well, they would both most likely be dead in a few hours so it did not greatly matter. He was excited that he had been chosen as part of the group to accompany the Dark Lord, and was confident that all would go well. That was until the next second, when a short silver knife was at his throat.

"Lucius, unless I am much mistaken," a throaty female voice purred in his ear."

"Bella," Lucius rasped, trying not to move. "Always a pleasure."

"But I do not see my dear sister," Bellatrix mocked. "Trouble in paradise already, Lucius?"

"That's not your business, Bella. Not all of us keep our spouses under the Imperius," Lucius spat.

"Only the wise ones," Bella sighed theatrically, removing the knife slowly. "I may be going on a raid with you, Lucius, but make no mistake, if the opportunity arises, I will gladly end you."

"Jealous that I am one of the elite, Bella?" Lucius sneered, trying to disguise his worry. "Or was the death of your dear father not enough, and you crave to spill a little more family blood?"

"On the contrary, I am neither jealous nor bloodthirsty, just astonished," Bella returned. "Everyone knows you put our mission at risk in Scotland. You're in the spotlight, Lucius, but for all the wrong reasons. It would have been better if my dear sister had been here to prove her loyalty. The death of our father means nothing to me in comparison to our cause. Narcissa ought to feel the same. The Dark Lord will not be pleased at her absence."

"Absence, Bella?" A cool female voice came from behind the sparring duo, and they spun around. "You are mistaken, about so many things. Do you presume to know the Dark Lord's mind? I would not go around threatening his _loyal _followers so liberally. Now get the hell away from my husband." Hissing like a cat, Bella retreated.

"Cissy," Lucius murmured in an undertone. "Is everything as it should be?"

"Everything is fine, Lucius. Head in the game, unless you particularly want it removed by my dear sister," Narcissa whispered back. Under his mask, Lucius gave a twisted smile. This sounded far more like the practical, level-headed and mischevious woman he had married. His Narcissa was back, her pragmatism winning over her conscience.

-

The brief flicker of happiness from Narcissa's seeming recovery did not last long, though, before more trouble started creeping up on them. The Potter offensive began abruptly, continued messily and ended bitterly. Lucius would feel the pain of the cuts and curses he had endured for months afterwards at best. The eight Death Eaters and Voldemort had descended upon the House, where the Potters, neither of them above nineteen or twenty, had fought like wildcats and brought down Malcolm Bride and Luke Hancock in minutes. As the Death Eaters had hoped, they had called for assistance immediately and been joined by Black, Lupin, Meadows and another wizard later identified as Benjamin Fenwick of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. These indisputable Order members had thrown the Death Eaters into retreat, and arrived the second Lord Voldemort had Lily and James Potter cornered. He was furious at this defeat, because never before had he been denied his kill, especially not by two teenagers. It had been Dorcas Meadows who had led the counter-attack, shooting a painful stinging hex at Lucius which he could still feel. She was now on the very top of the Dark Lord's 'to kill' list, Lucius knew.

His rage had been the most frightening thing Lucius had ever witnessed, and he had for the first time in his life endured the torture of the Cruciatus curse, for pointing out that the Mission had been successful in identifying Fenwick and the Potters' friends as members of the Order. As it turned out, you did not disagree with the Dark Lord or try to make him look on the bright side. Not when he had been outwitted by a bunch of teenagers.

The only positive side of the entire fiasco, aside from the fact that Bella had been hit with furnunculus, was that Narcissa was looking far more like her normal self again. She joined Lucius on the bed wearing a cream silk negligee edged with bottle green silk, and nestled into his arms.

"Better, pet?" he murmured to her.

"Much," Narcissa informed him quietly. "It made me remember just why I never listened to my family. You were right, Lucius."

"I'll enjoy the moment," he smirked. "Anything else? Will we be entertaining a bunch of affluent zombies to please dear Druella?"

"As if," Narcissa snorted. Lucius chuckled.

"Oh, we're going to dinner with mother on Thursday," Narcissa whispered sleepily to her husband a minute later. "Make sure you pick a really disgusting vintage of wine for it, will you?" Lucius smiled broadly. Narcissa was well and truly back.


	23. First Sorrow

**Please don't kill me for the ending of this chapter, it's a necessary evil for my storyline, and I promise everything works out well in the end (sort of). I'm having a hard time writing and updating back at uni and it just didn't want to end up cheerful. I've tried to keep some of it on the lighter side, though. Any feedback is welcome and I'll update again ASAP.**

-23- First Sorrow

Six months after the Potter fiasco and things were looking up again for the Death Eaters. The murder of Dorcas Meadows by the Dark Lord had been cause for celebration, making up for her brief flair of success against the Dark Lord at the Potters'. Lucius made a mental note, as he had done before, never to get on the wrong side of the Dark Lord. He really did not forgive. This success had been followed by the effective use of the Imperio curse on Charles Excabius, a Ministry worker of much influence, who could act as a spy for the Death Eaters and give them access to information on ministry officials working for or against their causes, which was useful for scouting out new followers and keeping one step ahead of the auror department. Voldemort had rewarded Lucius particularly for this, and had assigned him to work with his other favourite on his next pet project, bringing down the wards on the McKinnons' homes, while the remainder of the group, Narcissa included, would be involved in a high-risk mission in Hogsmeade, where they would try to plant a muggle bomb without being detected, thus demonstrating the danger of muggles to the wizarding world.

Narcissa had been rather tickled by this idea, because it was so similar to the terrorist techniques being used by muggle resistance groups. She had speculated to Lucius that Avery, who had come up with the idea, had lifted this idea from the non-magical population, but she had not mentioned this to anyone else, because it was never a good idea to accuse a pureblood of acknowledging that any muggles ever had good ideas, or that wizards could possibly gain any knowledge from keeping up-to-date with their actions. The bomb idea was, officially at least, purely a device to show how bloodthirsty and dangerous muggles were, with their primitive and destructive weapons. It was hoped that awareness of the brutish instincts of muggles would turn more wizards against the woolly idea that they needed magical protection. This progress was good news, and the two were anticipating their separate tasks, confident of their abilities and success. Lucius also received another piece of good news in early July, although it was not without its problems, and would presently cause him more problems than he or Narcissa could have imagined.

"I have a riddle for you," Narcissa informed him, her hands under her chin, looking intently at him as he read his way through the Daily Prophet. She looked oddly smug.

"A riddle," Lucius asked sceptically.

"Yes, and I won't tell you the answer. You have to guess," Narcissa instructed playfully.

"Go on, then," Lucius sighed, pretending to be bored, but secretly delighting in Narcissa's randomness. He loved her mysterious, inventive side, although it rarely surfaced in more than very small ways, and usually as an act of rebellion. It was something that he enjoyed greatly when directed at someone other than him. It was most enjoyable whenever they saw his father, whose straightforward nature rarely understood her subtle sarcasm and allusions. This time, though, it was Lucius who was about to be mystified.

Narcissa gave him a wicked smile, and slipped him a piece of paper, with four lines written in her ornate writing.

"Good luck," she grinned. Lucius looked at the paper and read:

'_What has two bodies but one single mind?_

_What is one and two and three combined?_

_What is nine, nineteen and also two?_

_What is both, but neither me nor you?'_

"What on earth?" Lucius asked, looking up at Narcissa in confusion. He was usually good at riddles, but this baffled him. He really didn't like all those numbers in there.

"You'll have to work it out for yourself," Narcissa smiled mysteriously.

"Can't I even have a clue?" Lucius wheedled.

"Are you admitting I am smarter than you?" Narcissa teased.

"No," Lucius retorted. "Why would I say that?"

"Because I know the answer and you can't guess it," Narcissa mocked.

"Just one clue," Lucius persuaded.

"Well, if you don't guess the answer, you'll know it eventually anyway," Narcissa said casually, and got up to put her plate in the sink.

"Nar- wait, what kind of a clue was that?" Lucius complained, but his wife had already left the room. Sighing, he reread the clues. They remained a mystery. As the day wore on, he turned his ingenuity towards finding a suitable source of help. It failed miserably.

-

"Do you get this?" Lucius asked McNair an hour later. "Cissy wants me to work out the answer but I don't get it and I don't want to admit defeat."

"A riddle?" McNair said with interest. "I'm good at these." He took the paper and studied it hard for a few minutes. "A pocket watch?" He said eventually. "That definitely has a lot of numbers."

"You suck," Lucius told him. "That is so not the answer."

"Well if you're so clever, you tell me what it is," demanded McNair. Lucius settled for a patronising sneer before stalking out of the room.

-

"Specialis revelio," Rosier said confidently ten minutes after. "The trick with these things isn't to guess, it's to cheat," he said over his shoulder to Lucius. He tapped the paper with his wand. A loud bang echoed around the room, and a cloud of thick black smoke obscured the two men. As it cleared, they were left coughing and blackened, the little piece of paper still intact.

"You know what," Lucius said weakly. "I think she thought of that."

-

"A riddle?" asked Abraxas thoughtfully as Lucius lunched with him. "That's a new one. Mark my words, boy, she's trying to give you a hint about something. Your mother used to do that all the time. When I refused to let her sleep in a separate room, she cursed the bed sheets so they would try to strangle me every time I tried to get into them. I gave her her own damned bedroom in the end just for the peace. Be thankful she's giving you notes not ambushes, boy, and wrack your brains about anything you might have done to upset her."

Lucius left with the strong hope that he had received his brains from his mother rather than his father, and that any children he might have with Narcissa received the same.

-

By dinner, Lucius had asked practically every person in his acquaintance and still had no ideas. In his desperation he had started considering the merits in the pocket watch theory, and when Narcissa entered the room in a jumper and jeans, ready to leave for her mission, he began to sweat.

"Interesting day, dear?" she asked him teasingly.

"All our friends are idiots," Lucius said hollowly.

"You've asked everyone we know?" Narcissa queried, diverted. "I would have thought you too proud to turn to others, Lucius."

"Pride is foolish, it's refusing to admit defeat even when you're obviously unequal to a task," Lucius sneered. "There is no shame in using any means to find an answer."

"So do you admit defeat?" Narcissa smirked.

"No," Lucius growled. Narcissa's smile widened.

""Well I should tell you," she purred. "There is a time limit."

"How long? I'll get it," Lucius promised.

"A few months," Narcissa told him. "Seven, tops."

"Why seven?" Lucius frowned.

"Ask yourself that," Narcissa smiled again.

After another few hours of fruitless guessing, Lucius was beginning to get annoyed. He could feel his reputation as an intelligent, calculating man going out the window. Lucius refused to see it as a game, and it was quickly becoming an obsession, representing far more to him than a simple riddle. If he could not find the answer, he was admitting that he was less intelligent than Narcissa. He would get the answer and prove that he was equal to her even if it killed him. This became apparent when Lucius, instead of helping Bella to undo the protective charms around the McKinnon residence, sat muttering to himself, counting on his fingers. This was partly to annoy Bella, of course. Since they were the two most talented Death Eaters, they were now being placed together on missions of great import, or things requiring brains as well as brawn. Lucius got the impression that Voldemort knew full well of their rivalry, but on some level enjoyed keeping them on their toes with each other, in much the way that he suspected he and Narcissa had been paired in Scotland to win the approval of the kelpies. As much as he disliked Bella, Lucius had to admit that the Dark Lord's reasoning was sound. The two were rivals for the Dark Lord's approval, and continued to attempt to outdo each other, making their efforts in their tasks more potent. Well, except when Lucius was preoccupied with other important matters that was.

"What," Bella hissed impatiently, "Are you doing? Unless somehow you are whispering an incantation to counter a ripple ward, shut up and help me out."

"Don't blame me, blame your sister," Lucius snapped at her. "I'm trying to work something out here, just not the wards, directly. If you're as clever as you think you are, you don't need my help."

"No, but I want you to concentrate or you could get us both caught," Bella said furiously.

"Fine," Lucius scowled, putting away the tattered paper he had had out, although he knew the words by heart now.

"What's that?" Bella demanded, snatching the scrap from his hands.

"Give that back," Lucius demanded.

"A riddle?" Bella said curiously. "Two bodies but one single mind... oh Merlin. From Narcissa?" she looked up at him sharply.

"Yeah. Why?" he asked defensively.

"Are you telling me you haven't worked out the answer yet?" she mocked, a sneer curving her full lips upwards.

"What, you think you know?" Lucius asked contemptuously, irked that Bella might get there before him.

"It's obvious," she said patronisingly. "_What is both but neither me nor you?_ Dead giveaway, forget the rest."

"You're bluffing," Lucius said sulkily. "Nobody I asked could work it out."

"Then all your friends are morons," Bella said, eyebrows raised. Lucius scowled as he remembered saying the same thing earlier.

"Are not," he mumbled lamely.

"Do you want me to tell you, little Lucius?" Bella said in a singsong voice.

"I can work it out myself, thanks," Lucius spat.

"Course you can," Bella said lightly, and began muttering at the wards again. Lucius stared hard at the paper for a few more seconds before grimacing in psychological agony.

"Fine, what does it mean?" he demanded, wincing at Bella's crowing face.

"You're such an idiot," she laughed. "It's just too obvious. She's pregnant."

"Pre- she's going to have a baby?" Lucius stuttered, comprehension dawning.

"Of course. A bit of you, a bit of her, a brand new little monster," Bella taunted. "You're so dense sometimes."

"I'm having a baby," Lucius said dazedly. A grin was spreading across his face. Bella rolled her eyes.

"Congratulations, but I wouldn't do the victory dance just yet," she warned.

"Why? I'm going to be a dad," Lucius grinned. "Not even you can pour acid all over that, Bella. I don't even care that you worked out the stupid riddle before me."

"Well, if _you _think so, Lucius, I guess there's nothing to worry about," Bella said in an infuriatingly leading way, as if she still knew something he didn't. Lucius decided to take the bait.

"What is it you think you know?" he asked her boredly.

"Nothing," Bella said, still looking at him intently. "It's just that if you had half a brain you'd realise she really shouldn't be going on such a dangerous raid."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Lucius demanded.

"If anything goes wrong, which knowing Avery it probably will, she'll get herself and the baby killed."

-

He ran all the way, tripping up multiple times, hair flying in his face. When he arrived at the scene, gasping for air, flushed and sweating, he looked nothing like the usual suave, dominant man he was. He was too late. He found her bleeding, whimpering in pain, being attended by three medi-witches. The explosion had gone off, but, as Bellatrix had predicted, not all had gone to plan. Narcissa and a few others had misjudged the range of the bomb, being caught in the blast instead of being part of the 'panicked crowd' as they had anticipated. Lucius tried to fight his way through the panicked masses to get to his wife, and started shouting at the medical staff, demanding to know if she was all right, if their baby was safe. They did not let him through. Finally, as his view was blocked, he lost his head completely and drew out his wand, hexing everything in sight to carve out a path to Narcissa. Immediately several of the aurors who were on the scene descended upon him, and a fist colliding with his face was the last thing he remembered for quite a while. He awoke several hours later, head throbbing, in a St Mungo's room guarded by several grim ministry officials. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he was just about ready to start throwing curses around again, but the pity and sadness in the eyes of the closest female auror sent a thrill of horror through him. They knew.

"Is she-" he gasped hoarsely, not wanting to complete the sentence. With a sad look, the woman, a small brunette, gestured for him to follow, and led him through the corridors of the hospital. His steps were twitchy and sluggish at the same time, bursting to see her, but terrified of what he might find. When he finally saw her, he felt a mixture of relief and even sharper pain. She was in a hospital bed, deathly pale and with tears streaking down her face. She looked up as he entered, his face empty and exhausted.

"Forget the riddle," she said tiredly. "I lost it." She began to cry weakly, and Lucius held her in his arms, feeling so much pain over something that he had not known he had until it was gone.


	24. First Bar

**I'm glad everyone liked the last chapter (or at least were very polite in the reviews), I was a bit nervous about it. I also made up the riddle after searching for hours on the internet for an appropriate one. I'll post an explanation on my profile cos it was a bit confusing I think. I'm not too good at making up riddles :s This chapter is absolutely the last depressing one, I promise, and again important for the overall story, so please read and enjoy, I'll try to get the next chapter out soon but my first week back has been crazy and I am bone tired with heaps of work waiting for me.**

-24- First Bar

Life was not fair. Not even to the likes of Lucius Malfoy. How could it be, he mused bitterly for the hundredth time, gazing into his glass, that he could be rich, handsome, powerful, _loved, _and still be in despair? It wasn't fair in the slightest. One minute, he had had everything a man could possibly wish for; a beautiful woman, an excellent reputation and high social position with stacks of cash to go with it, and a cause he truly believed in, and in which his rank was steadily increasing. So why could it not be enough, Lucius thought bitterly. Why was he not happy? Why, with all these privileges, was his life going up in smoke?

Just when it was all in place, everything perfect and finally going smoothly, fate had cruelly stepped in and twisted it all around, so that the one thing after another smashed into pieces. Had it all been an illusion after all? It was perverse. Recently, it had seemed that whenever his relationship with Narcissa was going well, his role as a Death Eater was put in jeopardy. The moment it began looking up, he and Narcissa had fallen to pieces following the news she had received at New Year's. Just when he had it all balanced out again, and he had once again reached out to entwine himself and his lovely wife in the fragile strands of peace and happiness and hope that had eluded him, the miscarriage had brought the whole thing crashing around his ears.

Nothing had been said between them to cause it directly, but their relationship had hit a severe strain. For Lucius, it seemed decades ago, far removed, that he had pledged undying love to Narcissa, rescued her, teased her and been teased, woken up every morning with a warmth in his chest at the lovely woman sleeping beside him. She had not changed; she had coped admirably with the death of their child, far better than Lucius himself had. She would smile at him over her morning coffee, put his shoes out for when he came home, make light, easy chatter with him, and they would make love at regular intervals, just like before. But something about it all felt subtly wrong, as if the sparkle had gone from the relationship. Something was missing, and the longer it went, the more the seeds of doubt crept into Lucius' brain. Could the flame have already burned itself out? Had the scales just fallen from his eyes? Or had he changed? Did he just not feel the same way anymore? The doubt was eating away at him. Lucius had stopped really looking at her anymore, entirely removed himself from the small things which had made up their relationship, the sarcastic comments, the teasing and eye-rolling, the matching of wit to wit. It seemed so distant, as if two different people had said and done all those things. It was too painful to think about what had happened, how things had been, and he couldn't find the motivation within him this time to try and make it right, so instead he buried it deep down and tried to go on with his life, ignoring all this. Life was not having it, and nor was Narcissa.

Two months after that fateful day where he had arrived too late found Lucius drowning his sorrows in a bar with a few Death Eater companions. He had had his first true, ugly row with Narcissa that day, and he was masking his horrible guilt and disappointment with liberal coatings of a liquor which could, if applied correctly, melt varnish from tables. The fight still echoed in his ears.

She had obviously made an effort, aware that something between them needed fixing and that Lucius would not manage to do it this time. In a short baby pink dress, frosted lips and highly made-up eyes, she had flashed him a winning smile. She looked smoking hot, but Lucius barely gave her a cursory glance before bending back over his papers. The sight of her brought up a bitter, hollow feeling in his chest that he did not enjoy.

"Lucius," she had purred seductively. "I thought we could go out tonight."

"I'm not in the mood," Lucius had replied coldly.

"You need to get in the mood, then," Narcissa had cajoled. "I promise once you come out you won't regret it."

"Regret is part of life," he said offhandedly.

"What does that mean?" Narcissa asked, persona faltering.

"It means, Narcissa, that everyone does things they will regret. The only sure way to avoid it is not to do anything at all."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Narcissa whispered, almost to herself. "You don't sound like the man I married. He was always up for a little adventure."

"Maybe I'm not the man you married," Lucius shot at her. He had been drinking, and his mood was foul, his tongue sharp, his words bitter.

"You are Lucius," she said "And I am Narcissa. Nothing can change that. We just need to forget our troubles and remember each other like we used to."

"Used to," Lucius repeated bitterly. "You aren't the woman I married either, Narcissa. Or maybe you are."

"Lucius," whispered Narcissa, hurt. "What are you saying? I know we've had problems lately because of the ba-"

"What baby? There is no baby so we may as well forget there ever was," Lucius snapped. Narcissa flinched.

"You blame me," she said softly. "That's why you've been pushing me away."

"I don't blame you, Narcissa," Lucius returned. "I don't blame anyone. It was all an illusion. I married a child, always thinking of herself. I don't know why I expected anything better. I saw a free spirit, but you're nothing but a childish little idiot. You think you're so mature, so capable, all I see when I look at you is a cheap whore dressed up in her big sister's clothes. Get out of my sight." A weaker girl than Narcissa would have fled from the irrational, inebriated wrath of Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa was no weakling.

"You are not yourself," she said coldly. "But when you are, you will remember the promises you made me. I know you're not this person, so don't treat me like you treated Bellatrix. You know better."

"Don't pretend to know me," sneered Lucius. "You're ridiculous and pathetic, trying to seduce me out of my regrets. I can't remember why I married you."

"I am trying to find the part of you not acting like a spoiled child," Narcissa said icily. "I know you better than you know yourself at the moment, Lucius. Marriages have problems, but people get through them together. So I may not be good at it. Maybe this stupid dress isn't the best way to go. But Merlin, Lucius, when I try talking to you, you push me away. You're acting like the selfish, childish idiot in this scenario, not me. I will not let your own blindness blight our relationship. If you won't admit you're in trouble, maybe sex is the only way to get through to you."

"You never were anything more than the clothes you dressed up in," spat Lucius. "Don't pretend you know me, that this is my fault. You're nothing to me anymore, Narcissa. All show, no substance."

"But I thought you liked the show," Narcissa spat back. "You seek attention, preen yourself, want everyone to admire you. You're a fool, Lucius, to throw away happiness with both hands, to think our love is nothing to you. If that was true, why would you even still be here? Some part of you knows this."

"You've brought me nothing but pain," Lucius snarled. "But if you want to sell your soul like a cheap slut, I don't mind taking you. I have in the past, at this rate I will again. Women always throw themselves at me. I never thought you would, but I don't know what I've been thinking this past year. Yes, Narcissa, I'll take you if that's what you want. Will that make you feel wanted?" Narcissa flinched, and furiously tore off her frock, wiping ferociously at her make-up. She stood trembling in her black silk undergarments, looking daggers at her husband.

"This is not all I am to you, Lucius," she hissed, gesturing her porcelain curves. "I refuse to believe it. Do what you like, I don't care, but I vow to Merlin you will remember your promises before this night is out. If our marriage is hollow to you now, you are not the man I married. He was stronger than that, better than that. I love him, I will love him to the day I die, and I know he loves me. Whoever you are now, you can't take that away from me. I am not a woman to be used and abused. Get out and get your facts straight. Work out your own twisted mind, Lucius, before you blame me and treat me like shit."

"Spirit," Lucius said, a bitter half smile on his face. "You do show spirit. But every time I look at you I feel sick. We've been nothing but poison to each other, my dear Mrs Malfoy. The canker set in months ago. The sooner you realise it the better." With that he jerked up from the table and strode out of their house, heading for the Hog's Head, the dodgiest haunt he could think of.

The surge of hatred within him, the twist in his stomach that made him want to knock her against the wall, it was an animal part of him he thought had died with his relationship with Bella. It frightened and disgusted him to realise it was still there. He pushed his way through the warm but blustery October night towards the bar, hoping to squeeze the image of the pale, bare Narcissa from his mind. He felt so much hate and bitterness towards her, but a part of him was tormented with guilt and regret at the way he had spoken to her. Some part of him knew that it was not her fault, that he was taking his own frustration out on her. Her passion was still alive and burning, his was dampened by his guilt and fear. This was what made him lash out at her, shy away from her beauty and strength. A part of him knew he had made her a promise, knew that she was much more than the likes of him should ever hope for, but it was drowned and furious and wracked with pain, smothered by guilt and pride.

A shot of firewhiskey. Two shots. The drunken shouts of his fellow revellers. He was with Mcnair, Nott, Holloway, Lestrange, Snape. He wasn't sure how they had got there. His head was spinning. He could not drown the image of her pale, tearstained face in the hospital bed, or the defiant, brave figure who had stood before him, vulnerable, just hours ago.

"How can I love and hate one person so much?" he mumbled into his glass.

"It's called love, fool," a soft, deep voice whispered into his ear. He swivelled a bloodshot eye around, and saw the blood red, full lips of Bellatrix.

"I only ever hated you, Bella," he said darkly. "How would you know what it feels like?"

"You were never intelligent, Malfoy. I only kept you because you were nice and obedient, and quite good in bed," Her voice drove through him, painful but pleasant, dangerous but seductive. "God knows why my sister loves you, but she does. And you love her too, moron. I saw you run to her, abandoning your Lord for her and your child. It's obvious to anyone with a modicum of intelligence what you feel."

"I don't need you to tell me anything," Lucius muttered viciously. Bella shook her head and laughed shortly, her glossy curls falling into her eyes.

"Well I'll tell you anyway, Lucius, for the pleasure of seeing you throw your life away and look back to remember I was right. You love Narcissa, more than you love your own miserable skin, but you're so angry and guilty you can't see it. You're not really blaming her, you know. You're blaming yourself, and shutting her out so that you can't hurt anyone else you love. Well news flash, you're hurting her right now. And in five minutes you will be hurting her even more."

Lucius listened dully to Bella's speech, understanding only a few of her words in his drunken state. What he did understand was the sudden feeling in his nether regions. Bella had grabbed him hard and was starting to do her work.

"I still know how to make you scream, Lucius," she moaned breathily. "How to please you. And how to hurt you."

Somewhere in his mind Lucius knew that what he was doing was utterly wrong, but the proximity of her scented hair, her plump, ruby lips, her silky olive skin hotwired his brain, and he felt himself responding to her ministrations. His anger and frustration had found a new outlet. He reached a hand out and grabbed her suddenly around the back of her neck, pulling her close to him roughly, so he could feel her hot breath on his face.

"That's right," Bella moaned again. "Lose your soul to me." He let her slip her hands across his body, one up his shirt, the other lower. He closed his eyes at the sensation, more pleasurable and erotic than it had been with Narcissa in months.

At that moment two things happened. The first by a split second was the return of a little common sense and clarity to the intoxicated Lucius. The name, Narcissa, creeping sluggishly through his mind, caught up a strong image, not one of her crying, or hurting. He saw her on their wedding day, blonde hair ruffling in the Italian breeze, the scent of old wood and sweet jasmine, her blue eyes glittering and alive with love and mischief. In that split second his world was rocked, months of bitterness and stubborn lies to himself were stripped away and he knew why he was in love with that woman. Because she was herself. He realised she had not been herself for so long, but a perfect replica. How she must have been hurting, but he had been too wrapped up in his own guilt and grief to see. Of course these thoughts did not reveal themselves so coherently to him, but their presence was awoken and felt, and it was enough to make him pull away from the vicious temptress before him.

The second thing to happen, just moments after he had pulled away, was a crash from above, and the form of Severus Snape tumbling headfirst down the stairs, hair all over his face, breathing hard, and excitement glittering in his eyes as he was booted from the bar. The rest of the party was evicted, too, and congregating around the excited Severus, who was trying to communicate something to them, but Lucius instigated his own departure, away from his companions, lurching but certain. He was going home; he had something to tell the love of his life.

**Hope this wasn't OOC, I couldn't quite get into Lucius' mindset after suffering such a tragedy, but I reckoned he would probably behave like a bit of an idiot. Please review.**


	25. First Conscience

**How I managed to get this chapter done alongside no less than 3 essays is a mystery to me. I hope you enjoy this and that my writing has not been compromised by my immense work overload!**

-25- First Conscience

Lucius veered unsteadily through the crowded street, ignoring the yells as he crashed into people and pushed them unceremoniously aside. He was very drunk, but one thought blazed in his misfiring brain, pushing through the haze of alcohol. _I love Narcissa. _He saw all the signs he had missed. He couldn't look her in the eye anymore. It made him feel sick, but not with loathing, with guilt. A typical proud Malfoy, he had thought he was immune to the feeling, and he had not recognised it for what it was, mistaking it for disgust, hatred, feelings with which he was all too familiar.

He should have been there. He should have realised what the stupid riddle meant sooner. He was wrong ever to let her put herself in such danger. It was all his fault for not protecting her as he should have done. He didn't know what he had been thinking or feeling the past few months. If he told himself that she was a child, a weak idiot, somebody not worthy of him, he could stop feeling the hurt and sorrow at the loss of their child, a child he wanted so badly he could yell and beat his fists against the damp concrete of the pavement until his knuckles bled. If he could convince himself that he hated her, that their love was hollow and fake, he would not put himself at the risk of being hurt so badly, or blame himself for letting it die. If it was meaningless, he could not get hurt, and he could not hurt somebody he loved.

And Narcissa, how could he have been so blind? She may have smiled and made light conversation as usual, but he knew what had been missing, aside from his own screaming pit of despair which sat opposite her in a permanent grimace. Her own spirit had not been in it. She had kept it inside, the grieving she had felt for her lost child, trying to make it right with her husband, trying to move on and not to break down like she had over her father's death. But it had been a front. That was what had been wrong. Narcissa had not sat opposite him every day for the past months trying to coax a response from a stubborn, stupid man. A shell of his pretty, lively wife had sat there.

Where had he been when she had needed him? She had been right, he was acting like a child, blaming her to avoid blaming himself or facing the truth, spurning every advance she had made to try and help him. The thought of her, bare and pale and determined, no wonder it haunted him so. _I love Narcissa. _The dawning of the thought was a revelation akin to enlightenment to Lucius at this moment. All he could think of was to get home to her and tell her that everything would be all right.

Unfortunately, life does not work out this way, especially when you are so inebriated you can barely stand. As Narcissa was wiping her streaming eyes, curled up on the floor of their capacious bathroom, trying not to feel the sting of her husband's harsh words on top of her own pain, she was unaware that Lucius was even now lurching urgently homeward to make things right again. The first thing she knew about it was a crash outside as Lucius cannoned into the loveseat in their courtyard, his limbs tangling with the twining honeysuckle arching over it. Too dizzy to get up, he remained there, confused and disoriented, until Narcissa, wand in her hand, a silk dressing gown around her, approached the scene to see what the racket had been.

She saw Lucius, obviously drunk, nose bleeding and wrist at an odd angle, wrapped in splintered wood and vines, legs elevated above his head. His eyes were open but bleary, trying to focus on a face. She breathed in slowly, deeply, trying not to feel the pain that was coursing through her at her husband's state. She did not know what his purpose was, thinking that he was simply blind drunk and as stubbornly blind to his and her emotions as ever.

Lucius saw very little. His vision was blurred, and the pain and discomfort he would usually have felt was numb and distant. He could make out a blonde halo around a pale face, and a green blur by his head. Was it her? Or was he imagining things?

"Oh, Lucius," Narcissa murmured sadly above him, shaking her head at his foolish response to their problems, wondering if they would ever be able to make it work with him behaving like this. To him, her voice was distorted and fuzzy, but he recognised the tone. It must be her.

"Narcissa," he managed to enunciate, his voice hoarse but audible. "Love you, Cissy. All m'fault." His voice tailed off with the effort of forming a sentence, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he lost consciousness from a combination of excess strong alcohol and prolonged upside-down-ness. His long, eloquent speeches of remorse would have to wait until tomorrow.

In the mean time, Narcissa had caught his words, felt the betraying surge of hope in the pit of her stomach, but did not want to put too much on the drunken ravings of her husband, and switched into pragmatic-mode, levitating Lucius and cutting his self-inflicted bonds, getting him into the house and to bed before he could wreak any more damage on the furniture, himself or her damaged, sorrowful heart.

-

Lucius awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and little memory of the previous night past the point of storming out of the house after a row with Narcissa. That he remembered with perfect clarity. All that was left of the previous night was a vague recollection of an epiphany and the scent of honeysuckle. He groaned, and this groan woke the person beside him, who shifted. He focused his pain-narrowed eyes on the moving form, and recognised Narcissa's tousled blonde hair. She was lying next to him, on top of the covers, wrapped in his green silk dressing gown. A few trickles of the night before came back to him.

"Was I in the garden?" He croaked, surprised at his dry, raspy throat.

"Among other things," said Narcissa dryly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been steamrollered," groaned Lucius. "Whatever I did last night was so not worth this."

"Whatever did you do last night?" asked Narcissa softly, her voice cautious and speculative rather than teasing.

"I don't really remember," admitted Lucius. "All I remember is that I met a very beautiful woman." Narcissa flinched. So he had not meant what he said last night, and he was returned merely to rub it in her face that he had met someone else.

"She was gorgeous, intelligent, and a far better person than I am," Lucius continued, rubbing at his temples. "I think I behaved quite badly towards her, and I don't think I can even entirely blame my drinking for it. I might owe that woman an apology." He looked sheepishly at Narcissa, whose mouth was set in a firm line, but whose eyes looked a little brighter than they had for a while, catching on to her husband's convoluted and incredibly careful apology; he was trying to win her over without actually having to apologise or admit he was wrong. She would not let him get away quite so easily, although she had forgiven him in her heart the second his bloodshot, anxious eyes had darted hopefully to her face in a way she thought she might never see again.

"And are you going to give her one?" she asked seriously, playing along with Lucius' third person speech.

"As a rule, I don't apologise," Lucius said groggily. "But this time I think I have to make an exception. This woman is worth it, and she's put up with a lot of my crap when I should have been there for her. Do you think if I was very dashing and eloquent she might accept my apology?"

"Well, Luke, you might want to work on the dashing part before you attempt it. You look like shit and you smell worse," Narcissa said, a genuine note of amusement in her voice. She withstood exactly three seconds of Lucius' crestfallen face before deciding that it would be impossible not to relent to his charm, despite everything. "I think she might accept your apology anyway, though, because if I know anything then I know she's so in love with you she can't think straight."

"I guessed as much," Lucius said, arrogance vying with relief in his rough voice. "Who could resist me?"

"For some reason, not me," Narcissa laughed. "But please do me a favour and go take a shower?"

"Only if you come with me," Lucius growled playfully. "We have time to make up for."

A headache cure, a lot of bubbles and a very long shower later, Narcissa was sitting in Lucius' lap, and they were talking in low, semi-serious voices, finally getting their true emotions out in the air after months of letting them stagnate, and in Lucius' case, curdle bitterly with each other until they ended up in such a skew that only a drunken epiphany could set them straight.

"I never like to admit I'm wrong," Lucius murmured to Narcissa. "But I was. I never really blamed you for what happened, I was just so angry with myself for letting it, for not knowing or stopping you, not taking proper care of you, that I got confused and guilty, and got angry at you for making me feel that way. I was too messed up to realise how much you must be hurting and how much worse I was making it."

"It hurt a lot, what you said to me yesterday," Narcissa confessed softly. "I knew there was a darkness in you, Lucius, ever since I talked to my sister, and even before that, I think, but I never imagined you would treat me like that, not ever."

"It's not any excuse, but I was already half drunk and incredibly screwed up," Lucius said. "I would never intentionally hurt you, Cissy, and I never should have doubted our love."

"Don't be a sap," Narcissa admonished playfully. "I accept that sometimes you will lose control and make a mess, it's human, especially after all we've been through. I was naive to think anything else, you were right about that. And I was to blame for doing something so dangerous, but I wanted to prove I was not a child, and to prove I was just as committed to the Dark Lord as to you and our family. It was stupid."

"It's a price we have to pay, pet, to put the cause first sometimes," Lucius said gently. "You just have to pick the times and not let it tear our family to pieces. I won't ever let go again."

"You're still being a sa-" Narcissa began playfully, but was cut off as a pain in her wrist distracted her. Her dark mark was burning black; their master was calling. "Time to prove our loyalties, I think," she said wryly to her husband. "The other duty calls."

"I love you," Lucius told her urgently. Narcissa stroked one hand across his cheek, and lowered her mouth briefly to his.

"As do I," she returned. "Now let's go."

They arrived hand in hand to kneel before the Dark Lord. The scene was unusual, all of the Death Eaters, twenty of thirty gathered together, with one standing by the side of the Dark Lord. He was masked and hooded, but Lucius recognised the slender form and slightly hostile, twitchy pose of Severus Snape. There was an atmosphere of excitement and tension in the air, which the Dark Lord cut through in his cold voice when the last few Death Eaters arrived.

"I have received important news from one of my faithful followers, news which could secure my power permanently," he announced. "Last night at the Hog's Head Severus witnessed a prophecy which detailed the birth of one who could have the power to defeat me." Several gasps and murmurs could be heard, before the glare of Voldemort reinstated silence.

"The child of parents who have thrice defied me," he sneered. "Supposedly has this power, and will be born at the end of next July. We must be vigilant of this, keep track of any couples who are expecting children and who oppose our cause so that I may eliminate them before they have a chance to give birth to the child. Once this is achieved, I will be invulnerable. I wish for you to keep a close eye on the situation, all of you."

"Yes, my lord," the group murmured together.

"You are dismissed," Voldemort said abruptly, and disapparated. Startled at this quick dismissal, the Death Eaters formed groups to discuss this development. Lucius felt a little uneasy as Severus swaggered up to him.

"The Dark Lord will reward me well for my devotion, Lucius," he sneered. "And to think, you were drinking yourself into a stupor while I was gaining the key to glory." Lucius started forward, his face twisting into an angry snarl. He stopped when Narcissa put a calming hand on his arm, shaking her head softly. Snape spat on the floor, sneer on his lips.

" Love, indeed. Is this what has you so fettered, Lucius? You should know better. Love is never worth it when there is power to be had." He sauntered off cockily, leaving Lucius fuming. Narcissa linked her arm through his, and gave it a quick squeeze. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Come, love," Narcissa said softly to her husband. They made a swift exit, and as soon as they were safe indoors, Lucius tore off his mask and threw it across the room.

"Insufferable git," he bellowed. "He would betray a young family, condone the murder of a child, a wizarding child, so that he may boast of rising in the Dark Lord's favour."

"I know, love. Leave him to his own conscience," Narcissa soothed.

"It won't be on my head," Lucius growled. "I will murder traitors who try to kill us with a song in my heart, even muggles, gladly, if that's what it takes for us to take power. But an innocent child of wizarding blood? I'm not sure I can. Especially now."

"I know," said Narcissa again. "And that's why I love you, Lucius. You have ambition, but it is tempered with justice. I promise we won't be a part of this."

"We lost a child, Narcissa," Lucius said agitatedly. "I don't think I could do that to someone, even an enemy of the Dark Lord. If the child grow up and faces him fairly, does anything to harm us or ours, then yes, I will eliminate him, but an innocent child. It's defenceless." He broke off in disgust.

"If it came to a choice?" Narcissa asked gently.

"Same as before," Lucius got out. "It would come down to what I could live with. I can't live without you, Cissy, nor can I live with innocent blood on my hands."

"Your conscience will put you in danger," warned Narcissa. "As will mine. But I'm still glad you have it. It makes our love more powerful than anything in this world."

"I used to be him, Cissy," Lucius confessed. "I used to think nothing could touch me, that power was the only thing. I never thought that one day I would put love first."

"Now you know better," Narcissa said gently. "And I vow that it will make us stronger, not weak. One day Severus Snape will eat his words."

As they held each other, the only solid, certain thing they had, they knew that life had become just a little more complicated for them. Whatever narcissi said, the fear of losing their power to their love crept up on them. Once again, personal life sorted, their duty had become a burden too heavy to bear.

**Likes? Dislikes? Please tell me.**


	26. First Dishonesty

**Ok, my writing is really off at the moment, becuase I am juggling essays, dissertation, translations, research, editorial duties and relationship crises at the moment. I hope this is all right and I'll try to update soon. I hate it when I hate my writing!**

-26- First Dishonesty

Luckily for Lucius and Narcissa, the new alert for this child who could defeat the Dark Lord was not top priority, since as yet it did not exist, making it difficult for even Lord Voldemort to do very much about it, and he was not unknown for giving very tricky, nigh-impossible orders to his followers. It was something they were choosing to sideline, ignore, concentrating on other aspects of their duty. Unluckily for them, or perhaps a mixed blessing, they received their own news a few weeks after this new order, news which would bring several new fears into their life, and several new complications. Narcissa was pregnant. This time she did not play games with riddles and hints, but told Lucius the moment she knew, a mixture of joy, hope and fear in her eyes.

Lucius felt his life sharpen around him after he learnt this new twist of fate. He felt the path of his life twisting into new lines of joy, fear and possibility. He was elated that he had been given this second chance, this possibility to do the right thing this time, to protect his family and to reap the rewards of it. But the fear was there, too, gnawing at the edges of his happiness. What if something was to happen to Narcissa, to his unborn child, again? He didn't think he could stand it. Emotion and uncertainty was a new field to Lucius, but he was unpleasantly efficient at feeling guilt when it came to his wife. He had been used, before he met Narcissa, to being ruthless, taking what he wanted and not allowing any person close enough to him to fear for their safety. Having Narcissa brought him the keenest pleasure and happiness he had ever experienced, but also the new emotion of fear. Fear that he would lose her, fear that something would go wrong, as it had before, and drive them apart. Most of all, fear that his love for her would put her in danger if he made a mistake. And it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep the Dark Lord happy with him, especially with this new turn of events. This third feeling was the worst thing, the most bitingly ironic and confusingly ambiguous about the situation. His confused loyalties were beginning to be an even bigger problem than he could have anticipated.

His loyalty to the cause mattered now more than ever, just when it was becoming more shaky, because Narcissa's and his child was due at the end of July. _Born as the seventh month dies. _He had not mentioned this fear to Narcissa, and he was confident she had not linked the two events in her own mind, being neither as cynical as Lucius nor as unsure of her loyalties. But the doubt and fear remained in Lucius' mind. _Born to those who have thrice defied him. _Once defied; choosing Narcissa over the Dark Lord's instructions when they had challenged the Kelpies. Twice defied; running to Narcissa's side instead of working on the wards with Bella at the McKinnons', thus overruling Voldemort's orders once again. The third time defied; refusing, even if only in his own mind, to kill an innocent wizarding child to secure his master's power. It was Lucius' greatest fear that somehow, his path had been chosen for him, and that it was his destiny to betray everything which he had ever believed in for his family, that he would have no choice. He buried his suspicions deep, though, and told Narcissa nothing of this particular fear. He was sure he was being paranoid, that it was nothing. The birth of a pureblooded child could be nothing but a gift to the Dark Lord. Lucius prayed he would see it that way. He ignored his vow never to underestimate the intelligence of the Dark Lord. Why would he suspect his most loyal, devoted follower of treachery, when Lucius had no desire to betray him? It was coincidence, nothing more.

Something was clearly bothering him, though, and Narcissa, in her newfound position of fixer, did not let it slide. She sat, blissfully conventional and effortlessly beautiful, dressed in a green silk top and jeans, her hair done up in a ponytail, cursing amiably under her breath as she tried and failed to knit a small blue bonnet. Lucius only knew it was supposed to be a small blue bonnet because of the moving instructions with pictures of what it should look like which were hovering in the air next to her. Of course, it did not matter that Narcissa had all the knitting talent of an arthritic flobberworm, because they could buy all the clothes they wanted for the baby, but Narcissa had decided that it was a good pastime for a pureblood mother-to-be, and was applying herself with vigour to the task. Lucius would usually be watching in amusement, making snide comments about a woman who could drop three grown men with a single curse at a distance, but could not get a length of blue string to cooperate. Instead, though, he was staring at her, frowning, eyes a little unfocused, trying not to imagine his happy, unsuspecting wife getting hunted down and murdered. Using her wand to undo a particularly difficult knot she had managed to create, Narcissa glanced up and caught his expression. With a small sigh, she put down her work.

"What is it Lucius? Something is worrying you and I want to know what it is."

"Nothing," Lucius lied unconvincingly.

"If that's true, then why does your lip look like it's been shredded?" Narcissa asked pointedly.

"It's not important, really. Just go back to your... what is that exactly?" he cast critical eyes on the knarled blue bundle.

"It's a bonnet," Narcissa said defensively. "But that's beside the point. I don't like being kept in the dark, Lucius. Something is bothering you beyond the usual. Tell me."

"I just- it makes me anxious," Lucius admitted, sidestepping the greater issue to focus on the more immediate one. "Serving the Dark Lord and keeping you safe."

"But we are faithful followers of the Dark Lord," Narcissa soothed. "To serve him is to keep us all safe."

"But I will still have to worry about you on missions. What if it happens like last time?" He shied away from the thought.

"I will speak to the Dark Lord, ask him if I can do intelligence rather than active duty. You know I can plan just as well as fight."

"Will he allow it? He will be losing one of his best followers. Will he see it as you putting family first?"

"Of course not, Lucius. The Dark Lord is wise. He knows the value of a pureblood union, a pureblood child. We will be honoured, if anything." Narcissa's tone was reassuring, but Lucius still had a lingering doubt in his mind.

"How do we tell him? The Dark Lord does not like being asked favours," he asked.

"Don't worry. He will know, I am sure. Wait and see. Now don't fret, love. I know everything will be fine. Do you trust me?" Lucius looked hard at Narcissa's smooth, unworried face. In accordance with the old cliché, she was glowing. Her eyes were soft and bright, her skin pale but healthy, with a subtle golden tone to it. Her lips were curved upwards in a gentle smile. Lucius thought he had never seen her so confident or so beautiful.

"I trust you," Lucius said firmly. _But I don't trust Voldemort._ His unspoken thought hung in the air before him like a noose. He worked to smooth his brow, and tried to act naturally as he laughed at her horrible knitting and ducking the sharp needles she hurled in his direction, trying to pretend that this was all he was worried about, that the potential for their entire family being in danger because of a stupid prophecy was not lurking darkly on the horizon.

They did not have to wait long before Narcissa's theory was put to the test. Lucius was dreading the searing pain in his wrist and the confrontation which would come with it. He was afraid of his master reading his emotions, the fear and the wavering loyalty. He knew a little occlumency, but he had never needed it so badly; usually, his emotions were uncomplicated. At the moment, nothing seemed simple. He knew his thoughts would reflect that, and it took all his effort to control them.

It was a routine meeting, reports on various missions and updated instructions from the Dark Lord. The only thing that was new on the agenda was that a member of the Order, Peter Pettigrew, had been pressured into turning spy for the Death Eaters. When the group was dismissed, Voldemort held up a long, pale finger, and signalled for Lucius and Narcissa to remain behind. Forcing himself to breathe deeply, Lucius followed his wife as she weaved her way towards the Dark Lord. They knelt side by side before him.

"So," he said softly, his voice tinged with something which might have been amusement. It was quiet but still easily audible in the otherwise empty room. "I sense a difference in your emotions tonight, my two loyal followers." Lucius willed himself not to shudder. "I couldn't put my finger on it at first. You have jealousy, fear for each other. That is to be expected. It is even... useful, on occasion. I have felt this from you for some time. It gives me no alarm. Tonight, though, I sense... expectation. And power. I thought to myself, what could prompt this change? Once before I have sensed a change in a follower. I trust you both remember Tony Mikhail?"

Lucius scanned his memory bank of faces swiftly, settling finally on a dark-haired, laughing man with sharp, ever-moving eyes whom he had known since his early days as a Death Eater, before he had met Narcissa. The man had been at their engagement party, but recently he had disappeared. Lucius had not seen him again since his marriage. He could not remember if he knew what had become of him. He nodded silently, and felt Narcissa do the same beside him.

"A good fighter. Especially skilled at disguising himself. He was a wonderful asset at infiltrating meetings and out-of-bounds areas," Voldemort reminisced. "But one night I sensed a big change in his emotions. Suddenly there was fear and anticipation. An unwonted level of expectation. I am loath to consider any of my followers as disloyal, but I would have to be a blind old fool, like Dumbledore, to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. I ordered Mikhail to stay behind, questioned him. I tasted his lies the moment he spoke. It was... disappointing, to lose such a good servant, but he had been selling information to the Prophet. I do not give second chances." He paused to let the words sink in.

"My Lord-" Lucius began."

"Silence, Lucius," Voldemort commanded, not angrily. "I do not tell you this because I accuse you of treachery. I sense change... but I do not sense betrayal. Nevertheless, I believe you have something to tell me. I will know if you speak the truth, be warned. I ask rather than simply taking the information, but if you do not tell me the whole truth, I may reconsider."

"My Lord," Narcissa spoke bravely. She raised her eyes to the cold red eyes of Lord Voldemort, not flinching back as he scoured the surface of her mind. He let her gaze drop after just a few seconds.

"As I thought," he said in satisfaction. "Change, but no disloyalty. You will bring into the world a gift to our cause. In late July, unless I am much mistaken." Lucius caught the speculative tone in his master's voice, and his heart skipped a beat.

"This does not displease you, My Lord?" he asked steadily.

"On the contrary," Voldemort assured him, his tone still speculative and slightly amused. "It is excellent news for us all. Narcissa, my dear, you are a loyal follower, and have done much in my service. I will not have it said that Lord Voldemort does not reward good service. You will not be asked to put the life of your child in danger for our cause. I have other ideas for you. In fact, I have big plans for you. Yes, great plans." His voice faded thoughtfully. "Lucius, I feel your concern. It is understandable, of course, but I will not be lenient of mistakes. I do not want your focus to waver."

"Of course, My Lord. Never, My Lord," Lucius assured, relief trickling through to the lower levels of his brain.

"Then it is settled," Voldemort said confidently. "Narcissa, my dear, I will send for you in due time." He disapparated, leaving Lucius and Narcissa kneeling in an empty room. Narcissa turned an easy smile on Lucius.

"See? I told you all would be well," she beamed.

"Yes," Lucius murmured. "All is well." He did not let himself speculate as to what plans Voldemort may have in hand for his wife, but he knew that he would not let himself relax until the child was born, and was proved to be nothing to do with the blasted prophecy, even if it meant condemning another innocent to that fate instead.


	27. First Class

**Here it is, a weekend update. I'll probably try to update again next weekend too. Enjoy the chapter, I kind of think it straightens a few things out and has a nice balance between light and serious, but I'd love to know what you think...**

-27- First Class

Two weeks later, Narcissa received her new mission by express owl. She was not expecting to receive instructions by regular post, seeing as the Ministry had tightened regulations so much recently to deal with the rising power of the Dark Lord. She was helping the House Elf to prepare breakfast, frying the bacon while the little servant squeezed fresh juice for them. As the post arrived she shovelled liberal amounts of bacon onto her own plate, keeping back only a couple of rashers for her sulking husband, poking her tongue out at him as he protested at this unfair division. She darted out of his reach, plate in hand, to grab the post. She enjoyed opening the mail, especially since the news of her expectation had spread; she had been receiving letters of congratulations as well as gifts and snippets of advice from friends and family, which she enjoyed alternately sneering at and exclaiming over. She had been particularly taken with an ornately carved cradle from her friend Lucretia, whose children were now approaching their teens and who had no further use for the artefact. A low point had been a set of muggle breast pumps from an old Hogwarts acquaintance who had gone very new-age and given up magic for a muggle way of life. Narcissa struck her name off the Christmas card list and blasted the offending gift into smithereens, much to Lucius' amusement. He had made a mental note that a hormonal Narcissa was even more formidable than usual, and had started keeping track of her facial expressions so he knew to go out on 'urgent business' when he sensed a hurricane.

This particular letter put a completely unprecedented look of astonishment, followed by faint revulsion, when it arrived. Lucius glanced up at her changing face, his curiosity immediately piqued.

"What is it, Cissy? Another muggle atrocity?"

"Even worse," she said derisively. "A letter thanking me for my application to 'Magical Moments Mothers' Club'. You didn't sign me up for pre-natal classes, did you Lucius?"

"Pre-what?" Lucius asked, bewildered, shooting furtive glances at Narcissa's forbidding expression. "Of course not, Narcissa."

"Then why do I have a schedule of classes I am apparently attending calling itself 'Nine Joyful Months'?" Her biting sarcasm had Lucius' lips twitching; he knew that laughing at the moment would be like signing his own death warrant, but the image of his very own Morticia Addams at a pregnancy club was the most hilarious thing he had heard in months.

"It couldn't be from your mother, could it?" He suggested innocently.

"I think not," Narcissa said decisively. "Mother would never sign me up to something this common, especially when she has been bombarding me with mail instructing me in minute detail exactly how to do everything her way. She would never send me to someone named-" her lip curled as she read the name of the class administrator with venom, "-Bunny Velveen." Lucius bit the insides of his cheeks to keep himself from laughing at his wife's outrage, and came up behind her to read over her shoulder, slipping his arm round her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head so that she could not see his face or throw things at him.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to a third slip of paper in the envelope she held. Narcissa pulled it out, and a look of comprehension and dread fell over her features. It was a list of the names of the other parents attending the classes, and a note underneath written in an elegant hand.

_To occupy your mind during your maternity leave._

Although the message was not explicit, it left the couple in no doubt as to whom it was from. Especially when they scanned the names of the other mothers attending. Among the names were Potter, Longbottom, Bones and Dearborn, all names which were closely associated in their minds as members of the Order of the Phoenix. Clearly Voldemort wanted somebody keeping a close eye on those mothers who were expecting in late July, and Narcissa was very conveniently in a position to be that someone. Lucius sighed in relief as he put two and two together. Obviously if he had Narcissa keeping track of who else could fit the terms of the prophecy, their own child was not in immediate danger. This relief was immediately followed by an influx of new concerns. What if there were no others who fit the criteria? That would perhaps lead Voldemort to reconsider the implications of Narcissa's pregnancy. And what if somebody did fit the criteria? Lucius had few qualms about signing a death warrant for another if it would save him or his family in usual circumstances, but he was still slightly averse to spilling innocent magical blood, and he worried that the choice might fall to Narcissa, and who knew what her reaction would be?

He was so absorbed in considering all this that only Narcissa's groan brought him out of his thoughts.

"What? What is it?" he asked anxiously as she dropped into a chair and put her head in her hands. "Should I call for a healer?"

"Don't be a fool," Narcissa snapped, taking her head out of her arms and glaring at him. "I'm perfectly well. It's just..."

"What?" Lucius demanded again. Narcissa looked at him suspiciously.

"You'll laugh," she said defensively.

"Probably," Lucius admitted innocently, then ducked as Narcissa threw a bread roll at his head. "Why?"

"If its orders from _him, _then there's no getting out of it," she explained dejectedly. "I'm going to have to sit through classes run by somebody with a name like a fluffy animal and make small talk with mudbloods and traitors."

"Duty can be a burden," Lucius said with a mock-wise voice and a half-disguised smirk.

"Well, I wouldn't laugh too soon," Narcissa smirked back as she read the next few lines of the pamphlet. She indicated a line, written in sickly lilac ink, and pushed it towards Lucius, suddenly looking a lot more cheerful than she had a few seconds ago. Lucius' grin slid off his face like stinksap as he read the two incriminating words.

"You wouldn't," he said, scandalised.

"Do you know me at all?" Narcissa said with a particularly evil grin. "It's the only thing which could possibly make it worthwhile."

"Narcissa – please, I'll do anything," Lucius begged in horror. Narcissa's smile widened.

"Then do this, Lucius," she said sweetly. "For me."

It was Lucius' turn to put his head in his hands this time. He let himself sink into a chair, and the leaflet fluttered to the floor, the two accusing words seeming to stand out from the rest:

_Daddies welcome_

-

Lucius sat stiffly in his chair, trying his best to look dignified and aloof. This was not his idea of a good time. He was perched uncomfortably in an orange plastic monstrosity of the sort usually inflicted on muggle primary school children, his knees bent awkwardly and foolishly. Around him was a circle of witches and wizards in varied staged of gooey-eyed-ness, with small pink bundles or large pregnancy bumps. This was not the sort of gathering to which he was accustomed, or with which he wished to be acquainted. The only thing making it at all bearable was his wife by his side. She was his favourite Narcissa at the moment, her eyes glinting with mischief even while her face was set in regal lines which articulated excellent breeding and superior intelligence. She was really taking to the role, wearing jade green dungarees and a scarlet headband, which made her look casual and inconspicuous in the midst of the badly-dressed throng. As ever, she carried off the eclectic outfit with incredible elegance and style. Lucius was somehow proud of his wife for managing to combine class with such a humiliating task without sticking out like a sore thumb. He had convinced her to leave the knitting at home.

Under the cover of 'Bunny' beginning her speech to the 'mummies and daddies', Lucius' eyes swept over the gathered couples. The Dearborns were out, with Claudia Dearborn already holding a little newborn girl in her arms, and the Bones' looked a little too advanced to be in the running. He calculated that the only families who could potentially be the ones referred to in the prophecy were the Longbottoms and the Potters. Or, of course, themselves, although Lucius skipped over this thought as it came to him. He was still almost as uncomfortable with this task as he had been before, the only reason he was taking part in it, aside from the obvious reason that Voldemort would not be pleased if he did not, was to protect his own family. Although he had few qualms about putting the lives of his loved ones before anyone else, it still did not sit well with him that such a thing should be attempted at all. His master was a great and powerful wizard; what harm could a child do to him? It was just not dignified to murder children. His eyes rested on the Potters. They certainly seemed deeply in love, Potter's protective pose reminding him of his own reaction towards Narcissa. He sighed, and shook his head. He had gone soft, he really had. At one point it would have been nothing at all to see these people as nothing more than targets, and to eliminate them as such. Surely they had caused enough trouble to justify it. Even after his marriage to Narcissa he had not seen any other young couples as akin to them. Had he not, after all, helped to kill the McKinnons?

After the miscarriage, though, something within him had changed. Maybe a lifetime of repressing his emotions as a pureblood heir had been destroyed with the grief and the guilt which had overpowered him then. He knew this second chance of being a father was the brightest beacon of hope he could have wished for, suddenly much brighter than the vision of a pureblooded society in power over all other beings had been to him. It had turned him weak, but he could not find the strength to resent this change of heart. It was his greatest wish to protect his family, and now, looking at the happy faces of those surrounding him, he no longer saw mudbloods and traitors but other expectant parents like himself, just wanting the best for their families. All right, so he had a different idea of what was best for their families, but the idea of killing them, ripping them apart, after what he and Narcissa had gone through, was more difficult than he liked. He was no longer a Death Eater first. Now he was husband and father above all else. It was a condition he preferred, having never been so happy and contented in his life, but also one which he feared, because it put what he cared about in great danger. He must school his mind to thinking of these people as targets and not families. It was the only way he could protect his own. Suddenly he wondered what Narcissa made of this, but it was too late to ask her right now. A pink rubber doll had emerged, and 'Bunny' was demonstrating breastfeeding. Lucius changed his opinion. Anyone going along willingly to these classes deserved to die.

He lingered by the door, fending off the conversation of one of the other men attending the class and waiting for Narcissa, who was attempting to do her duty and 'mingle'. She joined him after about ten minutes, flashing him a quick grimace before taking his arm to leave.

"I can't seem to help treating them all like dirt beneath my shoe," she said mournfully. "But really, how am I supposed to treat such people as equals? Anyone who can go along willingly to such classes..." Lucius smirked.

"I agree, my dear. It does make one wonder."

"Not that I think it is a killing offence, but it does bring up certain questions about the sort of people we are fighting against. They're all so...fuzzy." Lucius snorted at his wife's choice of words. It was fairly apt. The 'light' side did seem to possess a certain abominable sort of sickly sweet marshmallow quality. If he had not seen the Potters fight, he would never have thought them capable of lifting a wand to do anything other than conjure large furry teddy bears. "It makes me feel like a demoness in comparison," Narcissa finished irritably.

"And damned right, too," Lucius smiled proudly. "Seeing them all vulnerable and woolly in there makes me despair of how the Order of the Phoenix must be. I bet they sit down to a full meal at every meeting to try and 'feed up' the members and give them cookies and chocolate frogs to take on missions in a lunchbox." It was Narcissa's turn to laugh at the image.

"One would believe that if we hadn't seen them fighting first hand. But Lucius," she turned suddenly serious eyes to her tall husband. "Seeing them all there, no matter how much I might look down on them, it makes me loath to condemn them to death. Underneath their fight they're all just- just-"

"Families exactly like us, trying to protect their own," Lucius finished with a sigh. "I know, Cissy, I felt it too. But their way of living puts our lives and our cause in jeopardy. We must, if they will not be taught, do what is asked of us. It comes down to their choices. They have chosen the wrong side."

"I know," Narcissa said glumly. "But this is harder than I had anticipated."

"Shall we make our report, then?" Lucius asked heavily.

"I suppose we should," Narcissa agreed.

Before the Dark Lord, Lucius felt the need to add something to their report and observations of the couples, despite the fact that it might mean a cruciatus curse for him.

"My Lord, forgive me, I must add this; would it not be prudent to wait until a child is born until we eliminate it? It is a waste of magical blood to destroy all the families just yet. I believe that there is no true danger yet. Too much weight may be put on a single prophecy. Perhaps if this child is powerful, we may even use it, bring it over to our side, instead of killing it. So much potential from a strong magical bloodline..." He tailed off, leaving this weak hook for the Dark Lord to take.

"Much as I appreciate your advice, Lucius, I would remind you that I, and not you, am the Dark Lord. This is because I take no chances. The child will die. There is no question of that. But I will not waste magical blood. Only the child will die, unless anyone else is foolish enough to get in the way. Keep tabs on the potential candidates, gain their trust if you can. It will make tracking them down all the more simple."

As Lucius left the side of his master, a foreboding thought crept into his mind. He knew that if it were him, he would not stand aside and let the Dark Lord kill his newborn child. More than one life would be taken through the Dark Lord's whim. But maybe that was best. The grief of living when your child did not would be almost too much to bear. Maybe Voldemort would do a merciful thing by killing those who stood in his way. He did not realise what a Gryffindor thought this was.


	28. First Son

**Umm, well, it's an update. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it or not. It's quite long, though, which is good, right? Please review, and if you're interested I've posted a Lord of the Rings parody which I would love some feedback on as it's my first attempt...**

-LN28- First Son

Attending three more meetings of what Lucius and Narcissa had dubbed the 'fuzzy mudblood mothers' club', they knew that it was hopeless ever to get close enough to any of these people to find out anything of use. The name Malfoy spoke volumes in any circle, and it screamed 'Slytherin purebloods' in this one. The Potters, Longbottoms, even the pureblooded Dearborns, who had been Ravenclaws, were on their guard around them. It did not greatly matter though, in the end, because the very useful spy Wormtail could give plenty more information pertaining to the movements of the Order members, even if he had no idea what exactly he was giving away. Whilst it would usually have irked Lucius no end to be upstaged in usefulness by a fat little Gryffindor idiot, in this case he let it slide, because it meant he did not have to spend as much time degrading himself at these meetings, and also that he was more peripheral when it came to the undesirable task of staking out a happily expecting couple for a brutal pre-emptive murder.

For now, his thoughts were more mundanely engaged with family matters, in particular his father. Abraxas Malfoy had, for as long as his son could remember, had impeccably, even irritatingly good health. Lucius remembered many times when he would have preferred the old man to be slightly easier to fool or circumvent, but he had always been as sharp as a kneazle's claw wherever it mattered, or whenever it came to his son. Now, though, Lucius found his attentiveness to matters of importance waning more and more, which was a blessing and a curse. It was good because it meant that he was not too overbearing on the matter of his impending status as a grandfather and did not interfere too much in their personal life as he had been wont to do in the past. It was bad because it meant that Lucius had to do far more legwork when it came to upholding the family name, making appearance which would usually have been his father's duty and sorting out matters at the Manor which he would rather not have to do, seeing as they were tediously dull and horribly time-consuming. Still, if he wished for him and his family to inherit, he would have to ensure that there was something left to inherit, so he allowed himself to be roped into the running of his father's estate while his father became increasingly listless. By the sixth month of Narcissa's pregnancy, he had taken entirely to his bed, and called Lucius to him. Lucius reluctantly obeyed his father's summons.

"Lucius, my boy," his father rasped. Lucius took in how old he looked, his ruddy cheeks wasted and shrivelled away in a remarkably short space of time. "I've known for some time now that my life is nearing its end." He paused, maybe hoping for Lucius to drop to his knees in anguish and deny the fact. If this was his hope, he was disappointed, because Lucius remained standing stiffly by his father's bedside, looking faintly revolted if anything at all. He did not understand the concept of feeling remorse for a man who had showed him little or no affection and had attempted in every way possible to control his life.

His father sniffed mournfully, but Lucius remained impassive, so the older man continued. "Very well," he croaked. "We shall get to business. Lucius, on my death you are to inherit everything. This is the pureblood way. But I am concerned about your involvement in the Dark Lord's circle. Yes, these things still do reach my ears, boy, I am not stupid," he snapped at Lucius' surprised look, his voice suddenly losing a lot of its graveside quality.

"Well, father?" Lucius prompted as his father continued to glower for a moment or two and then took on a vague sort of look, losing his thread of thought. "What of it? I can promise I will uphold the family name. I will not have my wife and child living in anything less than the best conditions and surroundings."

"Ah yes, your child. It grieves me that I may never see my first grandson," Abraxas said gloomily, once again looking sidelong at Lucius for a trace of remorse which was still as unforthcoming as ever. "But it is of him that I wish to speak. I have rewritten my will to allow for this child. You will inherit everything, of course, but I have put a powerful magical seal on the estate so that it and the money which goes with it will be untouchable by any heir but him. This will ensure that your Lord will not be able to step foot inside Malfoy Manor unless, when your son comes of age, he allows it. Thus will the Malfoy name and fortune be preserved." A look of smug satisfaction graced the old man's face before he nodded off to sleep right there and then, leaving Lucius to ponder the implications of this.

An hour later he was storming through his own front door, cursing at the top of his lungs.

"Filthy, conniving, _devious, untrusting_ old CODGER!" he bellowed, flinging his cloak at the poor House Elf as he scurries to greet his master, knocking the little creature over. Fuming, he did not even bother to apologise. Narcissa, who had been reclining on the sofa, raised herself to a sitting position, and lifted one eyebrow enquiringly at her furious husband.

"Trouble with your father, dear?" she asked innocently.

"Trouble does not cover it," he said angrily. "I always underestimate that old bastard. How he manages it I have no idea."

"Manages what, Lucius?" Narcissa asked softly, putting an arm on Lucius' shoulder as he slumped down on the sofa next to her, pulling her feet on top of his lap.

"Manages to work everything out in such a way that it ruins all my plans," Lucius snarled. "He's gone and written a will that entails the estate directly on our son, leaving me powerless to sell it or destroy it or offer it as headquarters to the Dark Lord or basically do anything at all with it except run it in his image until our child is of age, at which point it will cross directly to his ownership."

"But Lucius," Narcissa said in surprise. "Isn't this a good thing? It will ensure our son or daughter will have something to inherit whatever happens to us. It's what we could have wished for."

"Except for the fact that we are powerless in our own home," Lucius said bitterly. "That old man has tried as thoroughly as possible to tie my hands behind my back even after his death. Merlin knows why he trusts me so little. He must have been planning this little move for years, ever since he tried to set me up with a damned wife. I was signing my own death warrant!"

"If that's how you feel," Narcissa said archly, pulling her feet off his lap.

"No, no, nooo," Lucius said quickly, grabbing her feet and cradling them to his chest possessively. "I wouldn't change my damned wife for the world, it just infuriates me that my rotten excuse for a father managed to twist that one against me so thoroughly. I don't like being manipulated."

"All right then," allowed Narcissa with a huff. "But I still think your father was right. He doesn't know you like I do, he thinks the second he dies you would squander the entire fortune away and sell our name and house to the dark Lord given half a chance. All he's doing is protecting the Malfoy line."

"Doesn't he know I'll do that?" snapped Lucius in irritation. "Our kid is going to be insufferably smug when he realises he can turf his old dad out of the house when he reaches seventeen."

"Or she," Narcissa reminded him. "And he or she won't kick you out. You're going to make an amazing father, and our son or daughter will be proud of you."

"Just like I am of mine, you mean?" said Lucius pointedly. "I'm going to have nothing to control him with."

"Didn't you learn from our parents' mistakes?" Narcissa asked with a sigh. "We must let our child grow up with good principles and a clear view of the world as it is, but we must never control his or her decisions in the way our parents tried to. He will grow up proud to be a Malfoy and proud to have you as his father."

"Are we allowed to bring him up to hate his grandfather, though?" asked Lucius sulkily, most of his anger spent for the time being.

"Your father is a very clever man, and very cunning," Narcissa reminded gently. "And you have inherited those traits. He may have been an interfering and overly-cheerful meddler, but you can't fault him for sheer survival tactics."

"It's a shame you never met my mother," Lucius said thoughtfully. "She always said exactly the same thing, except with more regret in her voice. She tried to murder him a total of seventeen times, you know."

"Determined," Narcissa commented, impressed. "It's a wonder she never succeeded."

"Sheer bloody-mindedness on his part," Lucius informed her. "She tried her hardest, and she was no fool."

"How did she die?" Narcissa asked curiously. "He didn't do her in, did he?"

"No," Lucius said distantly. "He was head over heels in love with her the entire time, the fool. He never would admit their marriage was anything other than perfect. In the end she used one of her own poisons on herself. I was twelve."

"How dreadful," Narcissa said, sounding more fascinated than sorrowful; it was an accepted fact between them that their parents had all been appalling individuals, really, and not worth treating with any amount of emotion other than a perfunctory sense of duty mostly stemming from self-preservation.

"She was a remarkable woman," Lucius said admiringly. "Incredibly beautiful and truly vindictive. You would have liked her."

"Do you think we'll end up being the image of our parents?" Narcissa asked, playing with a strand of her blonde hair.

"I hope not," Lucius said with a theatrical shudder. "I want to make my own mistakes, thank you very much. Besides, I love you, which is more than any of our parents can say."

"Except poor old Abraxas," Narcissa laughed. "But I haven't felt the need to poison you so far, although if we are to inherit the Manor soon, I don't think we will be lacking in the means for very long."

-

But contrary to all expectations, including his own, Abraxas did not die. Not until after the birth of his first grandchild, in any case. Draco Malfoy, the son and heir of all the Malfoy estate and the pride and joy of his parents from the second he entered the world, was born unexpectedly early, to his father's eventual relief once he had stopped panicking, on the fifth of June 1980. It was a warm and balmy day, and Lucius was spending it peaceably in a small pub garden in Tinsworth with a few close friends, with whom he was eagerly and heatedly discussing the latest Quiddich developments, a subject which was banned at home by his broomstick-shy wife.

"No, no, no," he was telling Nott vehemently. "Only one in ten seekers is able to successfully pull off a wronsky feint it's a very risky move. If Walters had tried it against Skeets in the last match he would probably still be in a coma. He just doesn't have the skill. Now Combsworth of the Harrow Hawks-"

"The Hawks couldn't win the cup if they had wings charmed to their feet," interrupted McNair scathingly. "Combsworth may be decent, but the beaters? They're a travesty."

"I wasn't talking about the beaters," Lucius said emphatically. "Let me fin-" at that moment he was cut across again, not by one of his overly-enthusiastic companions, but by a small brown owl, which sat on the table in front of him, holding out its leg expectantly. He recognised it as his and Narcissa's owl, and ignored it in favour of getting his view across. "As I was saying, their seeker is good enough that the rest of the side doesn't matter. His last catch against- _what?_" The little owl was pecking at his wrist, determined to be taken notice of. "Oh, all right then." Lucius quickly removed the note and put it down on the table so that the owl could leave.

"Combsworth's catch against the Wimbourne Wasps was a fluke," McNair was saying loudly, taking advantage of Lucius' distraction. This comment effectively tore Lucius from his mail, and he flung himself hotly back in to the debate. He had just managed to establish his point that a good seeker was the key in any team when a small brown missile hit him in the face.

"It's that bleeding owl again," Goyle said unnecessarily, as Lucius was still spitting feathers onto the table.

"Well done," he said acerbically.

"Better see what's so important," Nott said sensibly. "If you don't want any more interruptions." Lucius shot him a look and ripped open the mail. The first was from Narcissa. It read:

_Lucius, get home now._

The second one was much the same:

_Lucius, where in Merlin's name are you? Get back here this instant!_

Over his shoulder, McNair peered at her elegant script.

"Pussywhipped, Lucius?" he teased. "Whu-cheeeee." He gleefully mimed a whip coming down across Lucius' shoulders, and the rest of the men fell into raucous laughter.

"Grow up, you lot," Lucius rolled his eyes. "She's not usually so demanding. Hormones and all that. She's probably run out of fizzing whizbees or something."

"Damn right," Nott agreed fervently. "Helen was a nightmare with Theo. She could get really scary if we ran out of sardines and honey, and Merlin forbid I was five seconds late home."

"This is why I never married," McNair said sagely. "Birds are no fun when you have to run around all day to keep them sweet. Any relationship longer than two weeks isn't worth having." Lucius disregarded Narcissa's letters in favour of hearing his best friends bemoan their own domestic situations and for fear of being teased mercilessly if he allowed Narcissa to dictate his movements. Ten minutes later, though, he regretted his decision, because an exhausted-looking mass of brown feathers dropped back into their midst with a smoking red envelope. The group of men stared at it in shock for a few moments before Narcissa's irate voice sliced through the calm, sleepy summer day so that every resident in the town could hear.

"_Lucius Malfoy, if you don't return home in the next five minutes I will hex you into the next millennium! Your child is coming and if you're not here to witness it I will let him toss you out of your own house come his seventeenth birthday without a backwards glance!"_

A ringing silence followed, in which Lucius was left staring stupidly at the smoking envelope. Nott broke it first.

"Best hop to it, mate," he advised. "By the sounds of it you're about to be a dad."

"But she's not due for another six weeks," Lucius said faintly.

"They come when they come. And you'd better go," Nott said swiftly, shoving Lucius' wand into his hand and clapping him on the back. "Good luck." Lucius had a brief peripheral image of his friends in varying stages of giving him the thumbs up and flapping their hands at him in a 'get-going' gesture as he turned on the spot and apparated back home, expecting a wrathful and alarming scene to be unfolding before him. Looking round in a flurry of panic, he tore from room to room and saw no signs of life. Eventually, he wrenched open the front door and looked around wildly in all directions, finally taking in the view to his left, where he found Narcissa sitting calmly on the veranda with a pre-packed bag next to her, waiting expectantly.

"About time, too," she said casually. "Any longer and I'd be giving birth on the front porch, and that would be most vulgar."

"What happened to the other six weeks?" Lucius asked stupidly.

"Get me to St Mungos and we'll find out."

"It will be ok, won't it?" he asked, like a little boy seeking assurances.

"Of course it will, if you get a move on," Narcissa said pointedly. Lucius hastened to clamber up the steps, tripping over a couple in a most un-Malfoylike manner, and took hold of her arm to take her by side-along apparition to the hospital.

"On second thoughts I think I'd rather floo," she said decisively. "You left both your eyebrows behind on your last attempt."

When they had finally reached the hospital, Lucius still eyebrow-less and covered in soot from his abortive attempt to floo after his wife and ending up in Orkney, where he had been yelled at by a strongly-accented couple whose lunch he had disturbed, Narcissa took charge, asking for a private room with a shower and adjoined room for guests, which by some miracle she managed to acquire, and briskly informing their healer of her medical history and current situation. Lucius had to be dragged along by her hand, which was clutching his own tightly so as not to lose him. Her first contractions practically gave him a heart attack, while she bore them with good breeding and fortitude, swearing only occasionally, and in Romanian, which thankfully none of the staff could understand. After an hour, she turned calmly to Lucius after a particularly long contraction.

"Lucius, be a dear and owl my mother, will you? She'd never forgive me if I forgot to tell her. And if you could alert the twins, too, that would be wonderful. Be back in five minutes. Go on, go." He stumbled out of the room, taking the first few moments to calm himself down, especially after hearing the word 'twins', and get his head around the situation before running off to do her bidding. Little did he know that Narcissa was taking the opportunity of his absence to grill the healers on the implications of premature birth and allowing herself the luxury of looking as afraid as she felt for the first time since Lucius had found her outside their house. When he entered the suite again, he appeared a little calmer than before but with his hair sticking up at an odd angle and his eyebrows still missing, while she was once again cool and collected, having been assured that there was nothing at all to worry about. After another half hour, Druella Black swept into the room and instantly began asking a series of haughty questions, which somewhat negated the healers' assurances and made Narcissa sharply regret her notification.

"Narcissa, dear, why did you not call me before? Oh dear, is this the best room they had? Why are you so early, dear, were you doing anything you shouldn't have been? Has Lucius not been taking care of you properly? Of course he hasn't, all men are useless. How often are your contractions? Will the baby be healthy? Your sister-"

"Lucius, dear," Narcissa cut across her mother through gritted teeth. "Could you get me some ice chips, please? Don't worry, I promise not to do anything exciting while you're gone." Lucius shot from the room, relieved to be out of the presence of Druella, and half way up the corridor heard Narcissa lay into her with a vengeance. A ghost of a slightly hysterical grin swept across his face, and vanished as soon as it had come. He stopped the first person to come along the corridor.

"You, there. What the hell is an ice chip and where can I find one?"

Another hour, and all was calm and quiet. Lucius' world had not only calmed down from the frenzied state of panic it had been in since he had realised Narcissa was giving birth, but had turned into a soft pink marshmallow of bliss and security as he held his tiny son in his arms. The little newborn had a miniscule amount of white blonde hair and half-closed grey eyes, just like his own, and was clutching a small serpent pendant that Narcissa had been wearing around her neck and which the child hhad refused to let go of once its tiny pink fist had clasped the jewel. It was the proudest moment of his life, not even spoiled by Druella's bossy presence or Narcissa's exhausted face, which was radiantly beautiful, or his own dishevelled, eyebrow-less appearance. Best of all was that his child had been born in June, and was in no way going to be murdered by the Dark Lord. It was his family, his perfect, amazing coven of three, and nothing anyone said or did could, at least for the moment, take away the glow of the moment for him.

**Just to let you know I'm going to end this story with the fall of Voldemort. That ok with everyone?**


	29. First Taste

**Sorry guys, it's very short and nothing much happens, but I just wanted to explain Lucius' perspective and develop the Malfoy family dynamic a little more before chaos descends! Hopefully this will ensure that my version of events is plausible in terms of canon but not make you all hate Lucius too much for what he may or may not choose to do. I do try to keep in character as much as possible even if I am hopelessly sentimental and have to give Lucius noble motives for everything. Ok, rant over. Hope you enjoy, please review and I promise action and excitement in the next chapter.**

-29- First Taste

"He's going to be a Slytherin," proclaimed Abraxas proudly, noting not only the silver and green dragon toy which little Draco clutched tightly to him, but also the bright, intelligent grey eyes which darted to his grandfather's face in an adorably suspicious manner.

"Of course he will be a Slytherin," said Lucius defensively, offended at the thought of anything else. "And the brightest, handsomest, most gifted child in the entire school."

"A true Malfoy," acknowledged the old man. "If you sliced him in half, he'd have a serpent engraved on his heart."

"Nobody's cutting him in half," said Lucius anxiously, too protective over his son to allow such a statement, even if metaphorical, to be uttered in his presence. "The very idea, father."

"Calm down, boy, it was a compliment. He's a fine lad. I'm glad to have met him before my end." Lucius sniffed. His father was looking more robust by the day, and was unlikely to die any time soon, to his slight disappointment. He had waited for three weeks before bringing the child to meet his grandfather, wanting to keep him all to himself and his wife for as long as possible. Inevitably, they had had a string of visitors hanging on the bell at every hour of the day since the news had spread, and he had had to endure the agony of having his precious son bundled around to any number of friends and relatives. The swell of pride at having him generally declared to be the most adorable baby in their living memory did a little to sooth the burn, but it was still a wrench to let the trembling-handed Griselda Marchbanks or the shifty Broadbent Blackburn, first cousin of his late mother, hold his little boy. Narcissa was even worse than he was, hovering protectively an inch from anyone holding the child and snatching him back as swiftly as was polite.

"We have already put him down for Hogwarts. He was accepted right away, of course," Lucius announced. His new favourite topic was _my son, the genius. _"Although we may consider Durmstrang for him if Dumbledore carries on as headmaster. Igor is a good friend of mine."

"It'll be Hogwarts or I'll be damned," said Abraxas belligerently. "If it was good enough for you it's good enough for your son. Lots of good names still send their children there."

"Well, Cissy and I will see, won't we?" Lucius hinted. "Here, let me have him back."

"I can manage," Abraxas protested, fending his son off with an elbow in an attempt to keep the child a little longer. Draco snuffled and wriggled a little, drawing the eyes of both the Malfoy men instantly.

"We've set up a trust fund in addition to your bequest," Lucius continued after a few moments. "Just to be on the safe side."

"I expect you've bought him his first broomstick, too?" Abraxas said slyly. Lucius looked discomfited. He had tried, but Narcissa had put her foot down until he was at least five.

"It's never too young to take an interest in your child's future," he defended.

"Quite right. I'm glad to see a proper sense of fatherly duty in you, boy. If I'd laid my chips down a couple of years ago I'd never have thought it of you." Lucius declined to respond to the double-edged compliment, and Abraxas chuckled. "Go back to your pretty wife, then, boy, I doubt you want to be stuck at an invalid's bedside all day. Mind you bring my grandson back to see me, though, and mind you look after him properly. You know what I mean."

Lucius did know what he meant. He meant, stay at home and do your duty as a Malfoy and as a husband and father, don't go gallivanting off doing the Dark Lord's bidding. He wasn't going to admit it to the old man, but for once, he agreed with him. He had spent the last three weeks convincing himself that the best way to protect his family was to serve the Dark Lord, but deep down he knew he was just too much of a coward to stop. He hated ever having to acknowledge he may have been mistaken, but more and more now he was questioning what exactly he had been thinking as short a time ago as two years. Giving his life over to a cause as noble as bringing power back to the purebloods as was their natural right had sounded mighty fine at the time; he remembered how he could almost taste the victory on his tongue even then, before the Mark had been emblazoned on his wrist. Since then, though, he had had more of a taste of what being a Death Eater really meant, and he wasn't sure that he was at all happy about it.

Freedom, power and glory were one thing, and a very tempting one at that. Even now, he wanted to ensure a revered place in society for him and his family, that his son would be richer and better connected than any other, and that he would not have to mix with a bunch of odious mudbloods and pussyfoot around, hiding in their own world to keep the muggles safe, muggles who should respect them as superiors and not mock them once a year by dressing up as warty, foolish hags and dismiss their powers as nonsense for the rest of the time. Even now, this concept tasted sweet to him. But what he would have to risk in order to get it, what he would have to sacrifice, made him doubt how much it really mattered.

The Dark Lord may talk of ridding the world of impurity, of taking over the Ministry, and he may be in a position where he had them all quaking in their boots, but Lucius knew that even if all this did come about, the world would be no safer for it, nor better for him or his. Voldemort, although he rewarded good work, was not a trusting master, and did not put any power in the hands of his Lieutenants unless he had rigid control over it, and anything done to further any plan but his own was punished fiercely, as were any mistakes made. If Lucius looked at it objectively, he knew that Voldemort was not above killing his own followers or bullying them into doing things they did not want to do if it suited him. It was all he could now do, therefore, to keep the Dark Lord happy, and allay any suspicions of his loyalty. It was not about achieving a goal which Lucius doubted would ever be a reality, or could ever be reached through Voldemort, who was increasingly obsessed with the prophecy and his own power and immortality, it was about keeping his credibility as a Death Eater and therefore securing the lives of his family in the only way that he still could.

He sighed as he pushed open the door of his home, listening to the sound of Draco's gurgling laugh as Lucius hoisted him a little higher in his arms, and Narcissa calling eagerly to him from the living room. Sometimes duty was difficult. There was no such thing as power and strength without risk and sacrifice, even for a Slytherin such as himself. What must life be like for the Gryffindor fools who would not go against their principles even to save themselves? Lucius knew what it meant to say that he would kill to preserve that which he loved. Narcissa had a much easier time of it, he thought. Now that she was a mother, she did not need to get involved in the complex and dangerous politics of it all, and she had never had to struggle as he had with the crumbling of all his old ideals and ambitions.

He forced the thoughts to the back of his mind and smiled widely as Narcissa entered the room, scooping her son out of his arms immediately and turning to plant a kiss on Lucius' lips, asking him about the visit, his father, whether Draco had been all right, in short, all the small, mundane things which now meant the world to him.


	30. First Test

**Busy, busy week! I'm writing for our department play, too, and I've just managed to finish my scene after about 4 hours of writing. But I have not forgotten you. Please read and enjoy, and I will go and write my shamefully neglected essay.**

-30- First Test

They were strolling in the park, hand in hand, with Draco in a beautifully-made pram pushed in front of them. It was a balmy August day, the most glorious weather that they could have hoped for, and in his other hand, Lucius carried a picnic basket full of quiche, salad, chicken and cakes. To any spectator, he had no doubt that they looked like the perfect young family, their blonde hair shining in the sunlight and their smiling faces speaking of their closeness and contentment, their postures highlighting their intimacy and happiness. Today, at least, this image was not going to be broken. They would sit, eat, play with their son and watch with pride and absorption as he laughed and waved his chubby fists.

This was not only the picture they presented to the world, for once it was the truth as well. This was exactly what they were, all that they could ever desire, the precious moments that they savoured and dragged out for as long as possible. But it was a rare day when they could be careless and lazy, just enjoying the bliss of each others' company. Lucius let himself sink into the moment as if it would last forever. It helped him to forget the black events which were unfolding in front of him, and the trials which confronted him in every other part of his life. The events of the first of August, he thought, would haunt him until the end of his days, and so he let himself forget, and rejoice in his amazing good fortune. After all, this was what all the suffering was for; it was all for them.

The Dark Mark had burned black on the first of August, standing out starkly in contrast to his pale skin, clear even in the pale pre-Dawn light. It had woken him from a light and watchful but peaceful slumber, one ear always cocked for the cries of his tiny son. Never before had he felt such a pain, although the call of his master always stung. This was the sear of a red hot poker, though, the deep, bone-crushing flame of rage and fury which ripped him from his rest. Leaving a still sleeping Narcissa in their bed, her own mark dormant now, and faded, nigh invisible, he raised himself and, arm still throbbing and smarting, made his way to the dresser to pull out his robes. Fully decked out in Death Eater garb, he paused for a moment to observe his slumbering wife, brushed a lock of hair from her face, and left the room swiftly.

Narcissa stirred and rose to a sitting position as she felt the light caress on her forehead, instantly alert and aware, but her husband had already left, the swish of a black cloak disappearing through the doorway all that remained. Sighing, Narcissa cast her eyes down to her own pale wrist, and hugged her knees to her chest, allowing her eyes to fill with tears. It was so much harder now, with her son to worry about as well as her husband, to put on a brave face and let him walk away, leaving her behind. She knew, although Lucius gave little away, that it was getting worse, that the Dark Lord was becoming more difficult and more temperamental each and every time, and that Lucius was suffering from it, although he masked his feelings even from her. The welds on his back were enough evidence if that even if the beginnings of care-lines had not started around his eyes and on his forehead; things were no longer as they had been. The Dark Lord, she knew, had but one thought in his mind, and that was the blasted Prophecy. Curse Severus for his favour-currying! It was becoming more and more dangerous for Lucius to fulfil the whims of his master, which he was accomplishing out of fear rather than loyalty, and, she knew, to protect herself and their son. A single tear dropped onto the sheet, and Narcissa turned her head to one side, resting it on her knee and allowing the silky fabric of her nightdress to soak up the salty liquid. It worried her more than she let on, letting Lucius go each time his mark burned, and not being by his side. Sitting at home and waiting was not in her nature, but she too had a higher calling to protect her son, and so she let her husband take the brunt of the Dark Lord's wrath and suffer for his obsession. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she went into the next room to check on her son. There he was, as always, sleeping like an angel, his pale, silvery hair just like hers, and the firm set of his mouth the image of Lucius. It was the peace and innocence on his small, cherubic face which gave her teh strength to sit and wait where she would rather be at her husband's side, fignting with him instead of leaving him to struggle through alone. But she knew that her duty was with her son first, and that she could only pray that Lucius would make it through unscathed in mind and body. Fervently, haltingly, for the first time since her childhood, she closed her eyes and prayed to a God she did not believe in to protect her husband and her son from harm, and to keep them together by her side, whatever the cost. She knew she would pay it to see them free from fear and uncertainty.

Lucius found him once again facing a restive master, pacing to and fro in a frenzy of excitement or anticipation, he could not tell. He and the others, those he counted mainly as friends but partly as rivals or even enemies, in the case of Bella. Her husband Rodolphus, who had joined their ranks, he found himself getting on surprisingly well with, and Severus he had reconciled himself to, as the man had a sharp mind and was quick on his feet. They too were assembled there, watching Voldemort pacing to and fro, deep in concentration on some matter. Lucius thought he could guess what it was.

"The Prophecy," Voldemort said triumphantly, his voice bringing a ringing silence to the already quiet room; every eye was upon him, ears listening intently. "Finally we have news on this matter, and I will, momently, divulge it to you, my loyal and patient followers. But first, where is our verminous friend? Pettigrew, come forward."

A trembling, plump man made his way shakily forward. Lucius' nose wrinkled in disgust. For all his fear, he had a backbone, and refused to grovel like a worm in front of his peers. This man, however, was snivelling and whimpering like a spoilt two year old who has been sharply reprimanded for stealing a sweet. It did not endear Lucius to him.

"Ah, Wormtail. Tell me, you had some good news last night. Would you like to share it with the company?" A silence punctuated only by whimpers followed. Voldemort sighed. "perhaps not. Let me enlighten you, then, dear friends. Last night Wormtail's good friends the Potters had a baby boy, a son named Harry." He paused and smiled lazily. "I'm going to kill him."

Nobody in the room dared so much as breathe, fearful of Voldemort's next words. They were right to be.

"I am going to murder Harry Potter, and ensure my immortality forever. His birth is the first part of the prophecy. But Wormtail here has made this rather difficult for me. You see, friends, our 'loyal' spy has uselessly allowed the Potters to hear that their son is in danger. So Dumbledore," he spat the word with hatred "has hidden the Potters away. My plans have been tainted by this snivelling coward's incompetence, and now I must ask you, my Death Eaters, to hunt down the Potters, killing each and every person you come across if need be." By the end of the speech, the burning fury in Voldemort's voice smoldered only millimetres beneath the surface, and Lucius braced himself for the unpleasant death of Pettigrew which must follow this failure. He noted Snape shift uncomfortably next to him, and smirked to himself.

"Now, Wormtai," Voldemort's voice was silky smooth yet crackling with unleashed power. What have you to say? You have failed me, useful as you have been."

"M-my L-l-lord, n-n-n-n-n-"

"Cease your babbling. Crucio!" The screams bounced around the room for what seemed like a lifetime before dying to a rattling gurgle.

"I spare your life only so that you can redeem yourself and help me find the Potters and their cursed son," said Voldemort dispassionately to the trembling heap that was Wormtail. "The rest of you, eyes and ears open, do anything in your power to smoke the rabbits out of their despicable hole. Now out, before I kill the lot of you!" The Death Eaters scattered hastily before their wrathful lord, and Lucius found himself with Lestrange and Snape.

"The sooner someone offs that kid the better," Rodolphus drawled, pulling off his hood and shaking out his red-brown hair.

"Rather them than us," Lucius muttered under his breath, face closed. He would not admit to himself that he was directly in-between glad that the young family had escaped and frustrated that because of them his own family was in ever more danger. If faced with the Potters, he did not know if he would kill them himself or let them run. It was maddening. The two men looked at Severus, whose face was inscrutable, a steel curtain drawn over his features.

"The Dark Lord does not fail. Harry Potter is as good as dead," he said. It was only as he turned away Lucius felt he caught a glimpse of- something – in Severus' eyes. Was it joy? Was he perhaps smug that it was his tip which had led Voldemort to the Potters, and that he had received special favours from it?That must be it, the snake. But if Lucius did not know better, he could have sworn the glitter in his eyes had been something else, something he himself was good at recognising at the moment. If he had any reason to understand the emotion being there, he could have sworn that it was anguish. But why would Severus Snape have any reason to feel anything for the Potters? No, it must be Lucius projecting his own wretched emotions onto the younger man, that was all.

A second later, Lucius felt his Dark Mark sear again. He looked at his companion, Lestrange, who was lighting up a muggle cigarette with his wand, completely at his ease now he was no longer in his master's presence.

"Did you feel that?" he asked.

"Feel what?" Lucius held out his arm, the mark standing out in raised ridges. Rodolphus shrugged.

"Not me," he said nonchalantly. "Good luck, mate." With fear bubbling like acid in his stomach, Lucius turned and re-entered the room, alone, where his seething master awaited his presence. To his slight relief, Lord Voldemort seemed calmer, no longer on the verge of mass genocide of his followers, and the atmosphere was not one of betrayal but one of secrecy.

"Lucius," Voldemort acknowledged as he stepped towards his seated master and kissed the hem of his robes.

"My Lord," Lucius murmured, his voice low and even, betraying nothing of his trepidation, or, indeed, his curiosity, as the Dark Lord was seated, looking pensive and troubled.

"Lucius Malfoy," he said again, tasting the name on his lips, seeming to savour it. After a few moments, Lucius looked up nervously to see the red eyes considering him. He looked away again quickly. "I know a lot about you, my slippery friend. Oh yes, do not think I have not marked your recent actions, your interests turning towards your own house. Yet I cannot fault you for it, for your work has been as diligent and thorough, as effective as always. Even I, Lucius, do not expect miracles, and nobody could have done more than you to aid my cause and obey my instructions. Complete loyalty."

"Th-thank you, My Lord," Lucius stuttered, surprised at this high praise. He had, indeed, followed his master's instructions and done as he had been asked, but his waning enthusiasm and his dubious loyalties were surely not so well concealed.

"Lord Voldemort rewards loyalty, Lucius," Voldemort purred. "And my reward will come in the form of trust, and prestige beyond your imagination. A treasure, of sorts, will be put under the protection of the name of Malfoy, my dear servant and friend. I will trust you to keep it safe or to suffer my displeasure, and this trust will be your reward, a key to your master's soul."

Voldemort brushed past Lucius, who remained kneeling, trying to fathom Lord Voldemort's meaning. He was being given a treasure to protect? This did not sound too bad. A way to prove his loyalty without sticking his neck on the line sounded ideal. Hiding was something Lucius did best. He kept a lid on his curiosity and kept his head down as Voldemort swished back to his throne and presented a small, battered leather book to Lucius. He took it with trembling fingers.

"My Lord?" he queried in what he hoped was a respectful tone. "A book?"

"Not just a book, Lucius, but a key, a weapon even, to be used, perhaps, when the time is right, but to be kept safe and secret until I tell you to unleash it. It contains the secrets of the Heir of Slytherin, and will, in time, help in the fight to rid Hogwarts of mudbloods forever. It contains the key which will unlock the Chamber of Secrets."

"I am honoured, My Lord. I will not fail you." Lucius was awed by this treasure. This was the best thing that could possible happen to him, to be handed a weapon. A perfect way to keep Voldemort's trust and to prove his worth whilst being required to do nothing at all but sit and wait."

"No, Lucius. You will not." It was a thinly veiled threat, and Lucius repressed a shiver.

"It is safe with me, My Lord, until you require it. I will keep it under every enchantment I know."

"Excellent. You will tell no one of this exchange, Lucius, unless I say so. Not even the charming Narcissa. Understood?"

"Of course, My Lord."

"Then you are dismissed. I have other matters to settle before the sun is risen."

-

It was on shaky legs that Lucius returned to his home. Before greeting his wife, before even seeing his son, he took the shabby book to the vault in the cellar of the house, and cast the strongest enchantments of concealment and protection he could think of. This book was his safety net, his salvation, and his talisman against danger from his master. It would not be treated lightly. With that finished to his satisfaction, he brewed a very strong pot of coffee and made toast and marmalade, and went to wake his lovely wife, his mood lighter than it had been in months.

"Lucius? All is well?" Narcissa's calm, slightly anxious voice called from their bedroom. She was sitting up in bed, eyes a little red, reading from a slim book. She stared in wonder as Lucius put down the tray and gave her a long, deep kiss.

"All will be wonderful, my darling Narcissa. We have little now to fear."

"The prophecy?"

"The Potters are in hiding, I know not when the Dark Lord will complete his mission, but we, at least, are safe from his fury."

"Are you sure? How can you know this? What has got into you?" Narcissa's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What is my favourite fruit?"

"Am I so changed, Narcissa, that you expect treachery? I have merely had my fears allayed by the Dark Lord's words to me. Now let us fetch our son and have a feast. I am inclined to be idle today, and enjoy your company. Oh, and for your information," he paused at the doorway of Draco's room and caught his confused wife's eye, smirking. "Your favourite fruit is a ripe, dark plum."

"It's Lucius," murmured Narcissa to herself, pouring a cup of coffee and listening to him greeting his crowing son, her expression torn between a smile and a frown at his sudden carefree antics. "But what is he hiding from me?"

**I hope this comes up to scratch and is typo-free, I haven't had time to check it over. Please drop a review if you will. Also, there will only be maybe one or two more chapters and possibly an epilogue, I think, and I will be writing a sequel as soon as I find the time and the inspiration, so if you're interested in reading it then add me to author alert. Thanks!**


	31. Second Chance

**That was one of the hardest chapters ever to write. I hope everyone approves, if not please tell me why? I will be writing an epilogue so hopefully I can answer any questions in that and tie up any loose ends. Reaf, enjoy, and please please review.**

-30- Second Chance

The warm feeling of comfort and security Lucius had carried away with him from his meeting with the Dark Lord lasted exactly one day before the everyday cares and worries came back to him, and he realised that as much as the book was a symbol of the Dark Lord's trust in him and his family, there were never any guarantees, and that it was not a simple matter at all to just let everything slide. It mattered now more than ever to maintain his role as a Death Eater, or at least his outwards image. It fell to him in the next few months to spend night after interminable night propping his eyelids open and doing reconnaissance and spying work, which may be a brief reprieve from more dangerous work, but stole him away from his comfortable bed and a good night's rest more often than he would like. It was more often than Narcissa would have liked, too, for he often crept in at ungodly hours of the morning to find her awake, her tense expression immediately melting into one of relief at the sight of her yawning husband in the doorway. There was little now that she could do about it, however. After the birth of the Potters' son on the last day of July, they had talked at length on the bed, empty tray and coffee cups discarded, Draco sleeping between them, and come to the conclusion that Narcissa's death eating days were well and truly behind her.

"What makes you suddenly so cheerful, Lucius?" Narcissa asked as he lay smiling idly and fiddling with the last slice of toast. She had been eyeing him speculatively since he had returned, and she could not hold her curiosity any longer. "I'm sure if it relates in any way to where you have just been in can bode no good, one way or the other."

"Let's just say our fortunes are looking up, and nobody else's are looking any worse than they were," Lucius smiled enigmatically, munching on his toast. Narcissa frowned.

"Must you be so cryptic?" she complained.

"Since you are no longer an active Death Eater, my dear, I think I must," Lucius said, his voice suddenly a little more serious. "Have you given any thought to returning?"

It had been an unspoken question between them since their son's birth. Would Narcissa, once Draco was old enough to be left with the House Elf or a nanny, return to the Death Eater fold, where both she and Lucius would be at great risk of death or discovery together, leaving Draco alone, or would she remain at home in safety with her son and leave her husband alone to face unknown dangers. Narcissa was no Gryffindor, but she detested the idea that her husband would be in danger night after night whilst she was reclining in safety, unaware of what was happening to him and unable to help. Then again, the pragmatic side of her told her that she would do more harm to Draco and therefore to herself and Lucius if she let herself get killed or captured alongside him. It made more sense for her to be there for her son, and take the burden of worry entirely upon herself, for she knew that Lucius would fret if she were exposed again to danger.

Narcissa bit her lip, hoping Lucius would take this the right way.

"I have thought about it," she answered hesitantly. "But I think it would do more harm than good to return. I have my son to look after now."

"I agree," Lucius said swiftly, a look of relief flashing in his eyes.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to be there, by your side, but you understand things have changed since those first days," Narcissa continued, looking intently at Lucius for signs of jealousy or disappointment. To her own slight, inexplicable disappointment, she found none.

"I know, love, I think it's best if we do it this way." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. Feeling a little childish, she pouted, the sting of rejection stealing over her.

"Don't you want me by your side?" she demanded. Lucius looked at her in surprise.

"I would rather have you safe at home where I didn't have to worry," he replied decidedly.

"I'm not a porcelain doll," she snapped, her sudden annoyance building. "Don't think I couldn't hold my own if I wanted to. I've saved your skin more than once."

"And I've saved yours," Lucius said emphatically. "I don't think you're not capable of it, Narcissa, you know better than that. I just don't like having you in danger."

"What about you? I'll miss being by your side, the two of us together on missions. Remember the Loch? Wasn't that romantic?" Lucius gave her a funny look.

"What's this about, Cissy?" he asked? She sighed, her face falling.

"I just feel so useless. Like you don't want me, like I can't help you. All I'm good for is sitting home and playing nursemaid. Much as I love Draco, I hate sitting here and not being a part of everything which is going on." Lucius looked at her guilty, downcast expression, and put his fingers under her chin, tilting it upwards so that she met his eyes.

"Not for one second could I think you were useless, he said softly. But think about what you're saying. Can you really remember what it was like? When was it ever glamorous and exciting, the fighting and the killing? It's a gift, you being able to walk away with your life and your reputation. I almost wish I could do the same. But I can't. It's not good work I'm doing. It's petty destruction at the whim of a lunatic. Maybe it started with a reason, a banner to flock to, but now its do or be done for. I'm glad you don't have to be a part of it anymore. You can help me so much more by being my solid foundation in the storm. I need you here, you and Draco, it's the only thing giving me a reason to go on. I remember back at the start, our life, my life, was with the Dark Lord and his cause. I would have thrown you away so that I could join him, in a heartbeat. But now, if I could, I would give it all away to be with you. Don't wish you were a part of that. You are my most important thing in this world, and you are my strength."

At the end of Lucius' reassurances, Narcissa had tears sparkling in her eyes, with one shining droplet slowly tracking down her cheek. Lucius brushed it away with his thumb.

"I worry about you," she whispered. "That I'm weighing you down, or that by leaving you alone I'm pushing you away."

"Never," Lucius responded. "Through anything, Narcissa, you are the one thing I never want to lose."

-

Lucius' words meant more each day as the year died, and allayed some of both their fears as more and more witches and wizards from both sides were killed and captured. It was Narcissa's strength and endurance which got Lucius through when he was required to torture and kill the Dearborns, leaving their young child an orphan. He had come home white and shaking, disgusted with what he had done. Not even enemies, but purebloods, Caradoc Dearborn a respectable member of the Mininstry, and the girl - the girl not older than they were, and as far as Lucius knew, not even a member of the blasted Order. Claudia Arbuckle as was, Lucius remembered her from Hogwarts, a sweet and studious Ravenclaw whom he had once been out with, when he was sixteen and she fourteen. He had kissed her young, innocent lips when she was barely more than a child, and now he had her blood on his hands. It had been Narcissa's sad, eloquent expression, the small hand slipped into his, which had stopped him turning into a monster, or tearing himself apart with grief. It had been Narcissa, when Lucius had been required to celebrate the new year's festivities in Death Eater style, and had been caught by Aurors in a compromising position, in the middle of a muggle stampede and a battlefield of spiteful spells, who had vouched for him, lied for him, given the Aurors a convincing reason for his being there. He felt he owed more and more to her each day for holding him together and holding his family together.

But the other issue between them, the Diary, had not been entirely forgotten, even if it had been ignored after Narcissa's decision way back in July. The new trust and understanding between them, the reassessment of their priorities, had not prevented Narcissa from showing curiosity about this new, deeper link Lucius had with the Dark Lord. Narcissa worried more every day about what Lucius was doing, how it was affecting him, and how much more deeply he could be sucked in before the taint of evil would be permanent, and her carefree, mocking Lucius would be lost to a desperate shell or a hollow, cynical echo of the Dark Lord. Every time he came home from his duties, she did not know what she feared to see more, the shock and revulsion on his face at having to do something which abhorred him, or the cold, bitter mask which meant what he was doing no longer caused him pain or disgust. His mind seemed to flit from opinion to opinion sometimes, and it scared her what he came out with.

"It's the muggles," he remarked bitterly to her over his third glass of firewhisky one night, eyes hard shards of flint above his tense jaw. "It's all their fault, all of this mess. If they could just leave us alone, stay out of our world, not let this filth into our society, I wouldn't be out every night spilling their blood, our blood, mixing rivers of red into this whole bloody mess. If I could find a spell to drop them all dead with one word, I would use it in a heartbeat."

In May, it was slightly better, but Narcissa did not know if she preferred the lack of emotion Lucius showed at the multitude of deaths and disasters. When Abraxas died on the first day of summer, he barely blinked at the news, and sorted through his father's possessions without a flicker of remorse or curiosity. She did not remark when he kept the vast proportion of dark and dangerous objects.

Other times he would be so heartrendingly broken it was almost worse. In June, just before Draco's first birthday, Narcissa woke up to an empty bed, which made her heart clench, as always. Going downstairs, she found Lucius sitting bolt upright on the sofa, eyes tormented, body rigid. He glanced over at her slim, silent figure, and held up one shaking hand.

"Every time I do it I feel like I get one step closer to losing my mind," he said, voice hoarse and cracked. She noticed that, tense as he was, he was shaking all over. Narcissa want over and sat beside him, pulling his head into her lap until he stopped shaking, soothing him, not needing to ask to what he was referring. In all her time, she had never killed another human being. She never asked him what it was like, to take a human life. He never told her. He didn't have to.

In the early autumn, Narcissa saw the rest of her old 'family' for the first time in over a year. She was struck by the similarity of the looks on their faces, a mixture of hardened and bitter, vicious and cruel, or tormented and lost. Like soldiers in the last stand of a war, she thought. But this was a war they were supposed to be winning. It did not feel like a victory for them. The further they got, the greater the obstacles became, and the harder they were driven. It was the look of men who did not see an end in sight. Only her sister, Bellatrix, looked like she was relishing the kill as much as she had in former days. Only in her eyes did the light of the truly devoted shine still as bright as before.

-

The end came, though, just at the time when they least expected it, in a confused heap, with no immediate sense of relief and no easing of tension, just a muddle of shock and disbelief, of fear and further problems. It was the night of Halloween, and the weather was insane. It was warm, unseasonably so, but with strong winds which buffeted and blew , slamming doors and whistling through cracks in windows, knocking off hats as people walked and veering broomsticks off course. The occasional drop of rain, warm and wet, splashed onto the pinched, anxious faces of struggling pedestrians and on top of the heads of the laughing muggle children flocking from door to door in witches' hats and white bedsheets. Rumbles of thunder and white lightening split the sky every now and then, giving the whole scene a very authentic Halloween feel, but doing nothing to ease the feeling of tense expectation which pervaded the air. It was also a big night, Lucius knew, for his master. Finally the rat wormtail had come back with some more useful information, namely that he was in the happy position of being able to betray his closest friends. The look of reverence and pride in his fat face as he bowed on one knee made Lucius' stomach clench as he imagined himself doing the same to Narcissa, giving up her lie for his own glory. So this was a Gryffindor, and he, a snake, was spat upon for being willing to kill to proctect his own family, to throw anybody in the path of the oncoming train in order to keep Narcissa and Draco safe, even himself if nobody else was handy. This snivelling worm was willing to toss his friends on the tracks for his own worthless skin, and the Order welcomed him with open arms. All hail mighty Godric. He felt his lip curl.

But the words of the worm had put him exactly where he was now: in the village of Godric's Hollow, lurking in a graveyard, waiting lest the Order should find out what was going on and descend in force. Lucius was as tense as anyone, knowing that this was the night when Voldemort would confirm his power and his immortality. He would kill the boy from the Prophecy. Tonight was the last night Harry Potter would ever see. Lucius tasted this concept with mixed feelings. For one thing he would be relieved if his death meant that the Dark Lord would let off his relentless and furious campaign a little, but for another he was afraid, though he hated to admit it, of what would happen once he had finished his task. What would become of the world? Not what he had imagined when he had joined, certainly. There was a little remorse mixed in with the uncertainty, too. Harry Potter was just a little younger than his own son, now a precocious and very handsome toddler. They would have been in the same year at school. Lucius wondered idly if they would have been friends, then banished the mawkish thought and hardened his heart, adjusting his windswept hair with a careless gesture. This was the moment he had been waiting for, with hope and dread, for what seemed like a lifetime now. He must be ready to prove his loyalty once again to his master and, he hoped, to take a place by his side in a new and better world. It was the only thing he could hope for.

This was the last coherent thought he had that night. As he thought it, a blinding flash of light cut through the night, and an explosion so deafening it filled the night with a sudden silence went off to his right, knocked him off his feet and backwards into a headstone. It took him more than a few moments to gather his wits, and for the acute pain to ebb a little, before he could take stock of what had happened. He looked in the direction of the explosion, and saw a wreckage, the collapsed silhouette of a house that had not, moments ago, existed to his sharp eyes. It was not like the Dark Lord to make such a mess, but maybe he was just enjoying the closure. The thought made Lucius a little nauseous. He began to scramble to his feet, but the throbbing ache across the back impeded his progress. He must have hurt himself in the process of being hurled backwards. Cursing, he looked around for his wand. It was lying almost ten feet away. Clawing his way painfully upright, using a gravestone for support, he limped over to retrieve it, swearing some more as he bent to pick it up. As he closed his hand around it, his senses flared, and he felt something subtly wrong. The night was too silent, even to his ringing ears. Where was the signal? Where was the Dark Mark? Had something gone wrong? Was it possible?

"Flee," a sudden shriek filled the gusty air, shrill and horrified. "The Dark Lord is fallen. We must flee." Fallen? What was this?

"Bellatrix?" he called hoarsely. "What nonsense is this?"

"No time. Flee," Bellatrix howled, barrelling towards him from her own lookout, closer than him to the house. She too, he noted, was limping, and appeared to have lost her wand. She crashed into him, and they fell to the graveyard floor, causing Lucius to yell out in pain. He heard several pops in the surrounding area, but could not tell if it was people coming in or going out.

"Apparate, you fool," hissed Bella, and he did, still utterly confused, to the first place which occurred to him: headquarters.

Again he was slammed to the floor with the force of the apparition, and he hissed with pain. Before he or Bella could move, however, several loud bangs issued from behind him, and he felt his body go rigid. Loud footsteps echoed on the boards near his head, and then the haggard face of Bartemius Crouch came into his vision.

"Two more of them," he spat. "Like maggots to a corpse." He saw a foot coming down, but was unable to move, and the last thing he felt was immeasurable pain in his face before the world went black.

-

He awoke in a cold cell. Unnaturally cold. He felt the presence of Dementors, and the face of Claudia Dearborn and the many, sometimes nameless others he had killed and tortured, the proud, shivering form of Narcissa standing by the stairs as he slammed out of the house, the moment he saw her in the hospital bed after she lost their first child, all swarmed to the front of his memory, the feeling of unescapable despair enveloped him.

"You're awake," the deadened voice of Bellatrix made him start. She was across from him, chained to the wall, as he realised he, too, was, and looking chalky pale, her dark eyes huge in her face.

"What in hell happened?" he groaned, shifting a little and wincing at the flowering pain across his back.

"We got captured," her voice was emotionless on the surface, but he felt the undercurrent of anguish in it.

"I mean, what _happened," _he said again, his voice coming across dazed and distorted in his own ears.

"The house blew. I don't know why. That ferret Niall was the first to split, knew something had gone wrong, and the others who were further away started to follow. I went in to see what had happened. The Potters were dead all right, but the Dark Lord's body was in the wreckage, too, and he didn't wake. He is gone." Her voice cracked a little on the last syllable, but she continued, voice level again, monotonous. "I'd lost my wand, anyway, I was so close in the explosion, but the aurors started coming down like flies to a honeypot. They got McNair and Fawcett, they must have ratted our hideout or led them to it or something, or one of the others did. I sent out the call, then, and you apparated us right into a trap like a big idiot."

"Had no time to think," muttered Lucius, his brain muddled.

"Or no brain to think with. Now we're all done for," snarled Bellatrix. Lucius did not respond. He was trying to conjure up an image of Narcissa, sitting cross-legged on the floor and smiling, Draco playing in her lap, to drive away the chill of the Dementors and the nasty pains shooting through his back and side, as well as his head. His nose throbbed; that bastard Crouch must have broken it stamping on his face. The thought made him scowl. He, Lucius Malfoy, would not be treated thus. Only Narcissa's gentle smile in his mind's eye stopped him from losing his mind. He did not know how long he sat before half a dozen grim-faced aurors entered and released his chains, dragging him through to a larger chamber.

"Lucius Malfoy?" a sharp voice enquired. It was not Crouch. Another auror he did not know, perhaps.

"Yes," he croaked.

"You were found on the scene of the murder of Lily and James Potter, with previous record of anti-muggle links and connections with other identified Death Eaters. Have you any defence?" The voice was cold and ruthless, though not as hate-filled as Crouch's had been, and Lucius' head was spinning and confused. His normally sharp wits were in no condition to come up with a quick and convincing alibi. He knew who he needed.

"Narcissa," he half-whispered.

"What? Speak up, Malfoy," the inquisitor barked.

"Narcissa," he said, a little louder. "Narcissa. June, in the living room. We went out walking..."

"What's he saying?" he a second man utter to the first in an undertone. "Sounds like his brain's been addled."

"Were you or were you not present on the night of October 31st in Godric's Hollow?" the first man said loudly and clearly.

"I don't remember October. Only June in the park. There were swans on the water, and Draco was laughing," Lucius babbled, saying the first things that came to mind, the good memories he had been invoking coming more fluidly now he was free from the Dementors, and spilling out of his mouth, his brain too tired to concentrate at first, but then a plan came to him, thankfully reliant on his confusion and lethargy.

"He's not in his right mind," he heard the second man mutter. "Try the other one."

"Not until I have his testament," the first man insisted. "Lucius Malfoy, you will answer my question or we will be forced to use veritaserum. We have evidence of your involvement in the murders of Lily and James Potter. What have you to say?"

"I- can't remember," gasped Lucius, his vision still black and his voice laced with pain, which was effective in helping his case. "Not since June. Not since now. Can't remember. Narcissa. Need Narcissa."

"Is this your testament? You cannot remember the events between June and the present day?" the man's voice was agitated, sounding disappointed.

"Everything's black," agreed Lucius in a hoarse whisper. "Where's Narcissa?"

"Do you have recollection of being in the service of He Who Must Not Be Named?" Lucius felt rather than saw the men before him lean forward, eager to catch his words, and he let the silence linger for a few moments before he whispered, his voice drawing out the syllable.

"No."

"Very well. Take him to the upper blocks, Ingleby, and send the next one through, and get Narcissa Malfoy to come through, see what she has to say. It sounds like he's been under the Imperius, and if that's the case..." he trailed off.

"Very well, sir," Ingleby said, and Lucius recognised the voice of the second man. He winced as he was pulled out of his chair, but, he noticed, with less roughness than before, and marched through a door and up a flight of stairs to another cell, smaller but drier and brighter than the last, and with two wizard guards instead of Dementors, and a small, lumpy mattress, which he collapsed onto, closing his eyes and grimacing at the steady throbbing in his back. He heard none of what Ingleby was saying to him, losing consciousness almost immediately.

-

The night of the 31st, Narcissa experienced a strange sense of foreboding. It was almost midnight, and she was still sitting downstairs, in the semi-darkness, looking out the window at the wildly swinging branches of the trees. As she looked, the loveseat blew over, and she had a sudden flashback to Lucius returning, blind drunk, and confessing his love for her, tangled up in the very same chair, tipped over then, exactly as it was now. She had a nasty, frightening intuition that her husband would not be coming home, and she prayed that she was not correct. Every now and then she glanced at the clock. A quarter past midnight. Half past. Twenty to. Quarter two. Ten to. At quarter past two her eyes slid closed and she awoke shivering only as the pre-dawn light shone in through the window, the showers of sparks and loud bangs of fireworks which began in the early hours of the morning entirely lost on her. Immediately on waking she shot upstairs to check their room, even though she knew he would have woken her, or at least put a blanket over her or carried her to bed had he returned. Sure enough, she found the bed cold and empty. She crawled on top of the covers and grabbed a pillow, hugging it to her, thinking the worst. If he had been captured? What would happen? They had never properly discussed the possibility. Whenever it had come up, Lucius had refused to admit the possibility.

"I won't be. I'm too careful," he always promised. But what if he was? Would he go to Azkaban? Or would he talk his way out of it? She considered. Last time, she had covered for him. He had been at a muggle fairground on New Year's, where the Death Eaters had been wreaking havoc, as she had done in the past at Lucius' side, back when he took some enjoyment from such things. She had lied, said that she had arranged to meet him there to enjoy the celebrations but that she had been held up. A hundred galleons later, the ministry had bought it, and Lucius was safe. But would it be enough this time, if he was caught at a murder scene? She knew exactly what was happening tonight, not that Lucius had spoken of it. She had seen in his face that it was something big, and she remembered the Potters, the importance they held. What if something had gone wrong and he had been caught – she couldn't bear to even think the word killed. Immediately after the brief moment of panic, she began to think practically. If he had been caught, she would just have to get him out of it again. If there was one thing she could do, it was to lie convincingly. But how could she possibly explain his presence in Godric's Hollow, if, as she assumed, that was where he had been?

A loud banging at the door interrupted her thoughts, making her jump. Her eyes swivelled to the clock hanging on her wall. It was half six in the morning. She heard the sound of Draco wailing upstairs; the noise had woken him. Was it Lucius returning? Or the thing that she feared? The knocking came again, louder this time. Narcissa ran quickly up the stairs to Draco's room, picking up the distressed child and murmuring soothing noises to him, though the sound of her own pounding heart must have told him something was wrong, because he only screamed louder. She was not leaving him alone up here while she faced whatever was on the other side of that door, though. A bang below, and heavy footsteps in the hallway, told her that whoever it was had broken in. Grabbing her wand, she went cautiously down the stairs to see who this unwanted guest was. Five cloaked figures were standing in the entrance hall.

"What in hell's name are you doing breaking into my home at six thirty in the morning?" demanded Narcissa in her best haughty voice, over Draco's yells. The men turned to look at the slim, pale woman clutching a frightened child and a decidedly intimidating wand. Narcissa recognised them as ministry officials, probably aurors.

"Mrs Malfoy?" a grim-faced man to the right of the group demanded.

"I am. And you are?" she said icily.

"Is your husband at home?"

"He is not,"

"Can you tell us of his whereabouts?"

"No, but I expect you can. Would you care to tell me what gives you the right to invade my home in the middle of the night and frighten my son?" Several of the men looked a little shamefaced, but the main speaker did not blink.

"We have reason to believe that your husband is involved implicitly with You Know Who, and was part of an attempted attack earlier tonight."

"Reason to believe?" Narcissa repeated, taking in the use of the word 'attempted'. "What evidence do you have against him?"

"We have him in our custody after he was found apparating to what appeared to be a meeting point for He Who Must Not Be Named's supporters," a younger man interjected, earning a dirty glance from the leader.

"I don't believe it," Narcissa shook her head in disbelief, using her horror to give weight to the denial. "Lucius couldn't be involved in any such thing." She was playing for time, trying to get more information out of them. Denial was the safest bet.

"Can you account for his whereabouts?"

"Have you asked him?"

"We wish to confirm his story."

"I will not be interrogated in my nightgown at this hour. Either take me to him or leave me in peace."

"You will have to come with us," the auror said grimly.

"Please allow me to change and to attend to my son," Narcissa said with as much dignity as she could muster.

"We will ensure you cannot leave without our knowing," the auror said threateningly.

"I do not plan to. I wish to see my husband and sort out this ridiculous accusation," Narcissa sniffed. She made her way back up the stairs slowly and with poise, until she had closed the door of her bedroom, when she sank to the ground and wept silently for a few moments, trying to soothe her bawling son and calm herself down. They had Lucius, had found him at headquarters. How could she explain that? Changing into a pair of jeans and a jumper and administering a diluted calming draught to her son, something she would never normally have resorted to, she took deep breaths to calm herself. She had, as she saw it, three options. She could deny all knowledge of Lucius' whereabouts and leave him to his own fate, thus saving herself and her son. This caused her stomach to turn to ice, the thought of leaving Lucius to rot in Azkaban when he had been trying to protect them. The second option was to tell the truth, that Lucius had been coerced into being a death Eater with the threat of their family keeping him in line. Well, half the truth, anyway. This was risky, though, and would probably still lead to imprisonment. The third and most likely option, which if Lucius had his wits about him he would already have thought of, was to say that he had been magically forced to do the bidding of Voldemort, by obliviate, or better still, imperio. This would be the best idea, she prayed. After smoothing her hair and splashing water on her face, she looked in the mirror. Her face was hard and cold, her panic invisible except in her eyes. She would do. Picking up the now silent Draco, and giving him a false, bright smile, she once again turned to face the pack of hunters sent to tear apart their prey.

"Let us go," she said coolly. The aurors led her to a rubber tyre which was sitting on her table. This must be a portkey. She touched it, wrinkling her nose, and felt the tug in her navel. Moments later, the Ministry's foyer materialised around her. Before she could really get her bearings, she was led through doors and lifts, staircases and columns down into the very bowels of the ministry. The feeling of dread grew in her as she was taken to a small interrogation room.

"I wish to see my husband," she said, as calmly as she could. "Is he injured?"

"We must question you first," the first auror insisted.

"I refuse to answer a single question until I know Lucius is safe," Narcissa insisted.

"We have ways of making you answer that you won't like," the man growled, but he met Narcissa's eyes and saw in them a stubborn resolve he could not contend with. Her lips pressed together.

"You have no charges against _me_," she snarled. "Take me to see my husband."

"You may see him then, but not speak," the auror conceded grudgingly. Narcissa nodded stiffly. She was led, Draco still sleeping in her arms, down another floor, and peered through a small window into a cell guarded by two wizards. Peeking in, she saw Lucius lying flat on his back, eyes closed, face very pale.

"Is he all right?" she asked, her voice far meeker and smaller than she would have liked.

"He'll live," one of the guards remarked. The auror suppressed a scowl.

"He could be dead for all I can tell," Narcissa said, her voice hard and clipped. She feared for him far more than she wished to let on. Sighing, the auror tapped on the glass, and Narcissa pressed her face in, Draco's bulk thankfully blocking the others' view as Lucius stirred and looked around, wincing. Seeing Narcissa's pale, concerned face, his face broke into a look of mingled relief and fear. He mouthed a word at her, eyes pleading, and put a finger to his lips. She bit her own lip and gave the smallest of nods. She had understood. At that moment, she was pulled away, and the auror peered in to see what Lucius was doing. Neither ungluing their eyes from the other until the last possible moment, the two of them were parted.

"There, you've seen him. Now you will answer out questions," he said brusquely.

"Very well," Narcissa said quietly.

Seated back in the interrogation room, her escort of aurors departed, leaving her alone for ten horribly still minutes. She began to sing under her breath, just to distract herself, to stop herself going mad, and to reassure her son, who was quiet, but with wide, questioning eyes. After two verses, she heard a soft click, and a new auror, vaguely familiar to her, entered the room. He did not look as grim or as hostile as the last, for which she was thankful, but after a brief flicker of emotion at the sight of the pretty, fearful young woman singing softly to her little child, his expression was serious and his manner rigid. With no more preamble than a small, stiff nod, the questioning began, but Narcissa was more than a match for it.

"You are Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black?"

"I am."

"Wife of Lucius Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"Has your husband ever mentioned his work with the Dark Lord to you?"

"You're making leading statements. My husband has never worked for the Dark Lord. He is a family man with traditional values."

"So he has never mentioned the Dark Lord?"

"All wizarding families are aware of You Know Who. We have discussed security, of course."

"Would it surprise you that many of you and your husband's friends have been found guilty of illegal dark activity?"

"In the same way my husband has? Are you accusing every innocent pureblood nowadays?"

"Were you aware of your husband's whereabouts last night?"

"Lucius often goes out."

"All night?"

"I do not keep Lucius on a leash. He is free to go wherever he likes at any time."

"So you did not know where he was?"

"Not exactly."

"Have you noticed any unusual behaviour from Mr Malfoy over the past few months?" Narcissa's eyes narrowed a fraction, and Lucius' mouthed words came back to her. Had the auror just let slip an unintentional clue? She answered carefully.

"Lucius' father died in May. He has been a little out of sorts since around that time."

"He's been going out more, being secretive?"

"You are leading me again. He has been perhaps a little listless, but I do not see how this incriminates him. If you are suggesting he started working for You Know Who-"

"Just background information, Mrs Malfoy," the auror said, but Narcissa noticed he took a careful note, and his mouth turned a little downwards.

"How would you describe your husband's character?"

"Lucius is sweet and caring, an excellent husband and father. He would not hurt a fly, and he donates to excellent causes."

"Indeed." The auror shifted a little. Narcissa noted in satisfaction that the mention of money had not been in vain. This man was not as untouchable as he might want to appear.

"And your relationship to your husband?"

"Very close."

"And you have noticed no odd behaviour?"

"These are tense times. Of course he has been more...subdued."

"Yet on the night of the Dark Lord's downfall he was found in a known Death Eater haunt?"

"Downfall? You Know Who is – gone?" Narcissa let real surprise and astonishment colour her voice. "Are you sure? We are safe?" Even in her surprise she let it be made clear that this was good news to her. The auror nodded once.

"Oh thank Merlin," Narcissa cried, and broke into real sobs, her emotions unable to be repressed. Draco chose this moment to wake from his light snooze, wailing loudly at the sight of his distressed mother, and Narcissa took a few minutes to calm both of them down, accepting with thanks a glass of water fetched by the slightly embarrassed-looking auror. His professional mask had slipped a little; he was quite young. Had she known him from Hogwarts?

"Thank you. I am sorry. It's just – such a relief," gasped Narcissa.

"For us all," the auror agreed. "Yet his followers are still out there and we have to weed the real menaces from those forced to work for the dark side," he said gruffly. Narcissa hiccupped and nodded, smelling an opening.

"I understand," she sniffled. "D-do you think Lucius was t-tricked into doing something then? Or cursed? He just c-couldn't have. I know him, he would never do such dreadful things."

"I'm sorry miss – er, Mrs Malfoy, but it's my job to find out." The auror was becoming a lot more sympathetic now. Narcissa gave him a watery smile and stroked her son's head gently. Apparently he was a sucker for the damsel in distress.

"If it makes me and my family safer then I am glad," she said, laying it on thick. "But you must believe that Lucius would never be a part of such a terrible organisation."

"He seems – confused – about events in the past months," the auror admitted. "We must consider the possibility of an imperus curse, but it will certainly go to trial."

"Imperius?" gasped Narcissa in very convincing shock.

"I'm afraid it's quite common," he admitted.

"Surely I would have noticed," Narcissa whispered. "He's been more distant, quieter, sometimes confused, but I thought – his father- these are difficult times even without such things. Will he be all right? What happened?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to give out classified information."

"Surely you do not suspect me of any involvement?" Narcissa said, giving her best innocent look to the man, who blushed a little.

"Of course not, mi- Mrs Malfoy, but it's the rules. I'm not even sure myself, to be honest."

"Please, call me Narcissa. It makes me feel so anxious to feel I am being interrogated."

"If you wish, Narcissa," the auror gave her a hesitant smile. "Could you tell me, then, if your family ever received any threats from "Could you tell me, then, if your family ever received any threats from You Know Who's supporters?"

"A few people from school talked a little about him, years ago, but we made it clear we kept ourselves to ourselves," lied Narcissa softly. "Not that it was so long ago, really. I know your face from Hogwarts."

"Er, yes," the auror coughed, his ears going a little pink as Narcissa smiled across at him.

"A Gryffindor, surely," she purred.

"Er, Hufflepuff, mi- er, Narcissa. Nicholas Hornby." Narcissa smiled inwardly, knowing she was in control. Hornby was a half-blood, not too bright but very keen on looking like he knew what he was doing. He would be quite easy to mould.

"Of course. I remember now. I wish we met again under better circumstances."

"So do I," Hornby said fervently. He looked like he really meant it.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I really can't help you further. Lucius is innocent, you must understand. Why, we were even planning to make a donation to the auror department, we spoke of it not two days ago to Hathius Wing, chief of recruits in your department. Now, of course, I think our donation would be needed more than ever to catch the real Death Eaters..." It was subtle enough for Hornby's pinkening ears, and Narcissa knew she had won.

"Of course. Er. I'll have to talk to my supervisor. There'll have to be a trial, I'm afraid, but I'm sure it will turn out well. Your husband will be seen to. Er." Hornby stumbled from the room, and Narcissa let out a whoosh of air, closing her eyes in relief. Five minutes later, the first, grim-looking auror came into the room, looking sour.

"Your husband's evidence tallies with your own," he said, sounding bitter. "His trial will take place in two weeks, and he will remain in Azkaban until that point."

"Azkaban?" Narcissa cried. "But he is innocent. I will not stand for such treatment. It is illegal to put a man in such a place unless he has been proven guilty. I will speak to your employer about this. What is your name? On whose authority is this? I will speak to Minister Fudge himself if I have to. Here, let me write him a note. Have you en and paper?"

"That won't be necessary. One moment, please," the auror said, looking even more displeased than before. He left the room. Over fifteen minutes later, he slouched back in, face in a frown.

"Your husband will be under house arrest until his trial, which will take place on the eighth of September," he said dully.

"Can I take him home, then?" Narcissa said, voice coloured with relief.

"He is in the Medical Wing. I'll take you to him," the auror sniffed. Narcissa's concern returned, but she did not question her reluctant escort further, but waited impatiently as the lift clanked upwards. As the door opened, she spotted a blond head across the ward, reclining on a bed.

"Oh Lucius," she cried, running to him. "Are you all right? What happened? They told me you were cursed." She made a brilliant spectacle of sounding concerned and above all innocent as she swept over to him and took a mental inventory. His eyes were a little glazed, but he mustered a half-grin.

"I love you," he murmured.

"Oh Lucius." Narcissa burst into tears.

-

After the aurors had escorted them home a few hours later, and left them in peace, albeit under a trace so that neither of them could leave the house without escort and Lucius could not use magic without their knowledge, they talked properly.

"Whatever you did, Narcissa, you must have been bloody convincing," Lucius grinned, tired and sore but relieved and immeasurably proud of his brilliant wife. "I went from a dank cell with dementors to a clean cell with a mattress to a comfortable bed and medical care within about half an hour of seeing your face."

"You must have given a pretty good show yourself," Narcissa smiled gently, still a little shaky but much more hopeful than before. "They're being pretty ruthless with _his _supporters right now, so I'm astounded you got off so lightly.

"It's about who you know, too," Lucius said ruefully. "Our links with a lot of people in the Ministry did a lot, but you must have been amazing. I can't thank you enough."

"I couldn't have done anything else," Narcissa said. "I would have sold my soul to get you home again. As it turned out, I only had to follow your hints and hint at a very large donation to the auror department and I was taken seriously."

"I can't believe it's over," Lucius murmured. Narcissa was silent for a few moments.

"Are you glad?" she said finally.

"I don't know yet. It's all so sudden. I'm still not even sure what's going to happen now. What the world will be like. But right now, I don't even want to think about what will happen to everyone else, to Snape, Rodolphus, Bellatrix, all that lot. Right now it's just you, and me, and Draco, and hopefully we'll be safe and happy and free."

"Does it feel like it does to me?" Narcissa asked softly.

"How's that?"

"Like we can have what we always wanted. Just a normal family, doing what we like and not having to worry anymore. Like a second chance." Narcissa turned to look at her husband, who was frowning slightly, considering her words. After a few moments, his lips curved upwards into a thoughtful smile.

"I guess that's what it is," he said slowly. "A second chance."

**Sorry for the slight clichee at the end there and I hope you all made it through that huge long chapter. I wasn't sure how to split up or end such a massive sequence of events. It's been an absolute pleasure to write this story and hear all your lovely comments. Thank you all so much.**


	32. Epilogue

**Sorry this took me so long to write, I've been having a hugely hectic end of term work and social wise, and I couldn't quite find the right words for the end of this story. I'm quite pleased with this as an ending, and I hope you guys are, too. Thank you all so much for reading, special thanks to those who have spared the time to review, it's meant so much to me. Enjoy this last instalment, and keep a weather eye on the horizon for a sequel.**

-Epilogue-

The first thing that hit him when he left the trial was the sunlight. For some reason, it seemed to him stronger, brighter and warmer than it had been when he had entered the building over two hours ago. It was like a welcome. Something he had thought, however irrationally, that he might never see or feel again. For a few moments, he closeh his eyes and basked in the feeling of freedom, of unadulterated lightness. He felt a light pressure on his hand, and looked around to see Narcissa smiling at him, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was wearing red, and although he usually favoured green, he had to admit that red suited her more than any other colour in the world. Red patent heels, a tight red shift dress and bright scarlet lipstick. Even the colours of her clothes seemed brighter.

"Ready to start living?" she said, an inviting lilt in her voice. He smiled at her, his grin mirroring her own, pulling them into their own private world, safe and free and utterly intoxicating.

They went for lunch in a small muggle cafe, for once feeling like a private celebration out of the eyes of the rest of the wizarding world. Although looks, love and money could do an awful lot to win people over, there were still many, especially those who had fought in the Order, who did not welcome the Malfoy family with open arms. Among his own friends, too, there was some awkwardness. The look on Bella's face had been livid, and he did not like that glint in her eye. It was a glint which promised malice, retribution and revenge. He did not like to think what she might be planning. For now, he did not want to worry about his reputation, his connections or his future, which he knew would become the concerns of tomorrow. He was happy for now just to breath freely again, and to spend the first fearless meal with his lovely wife and incredible son since before he could recall.

It was a light, carefree meal. It was not fine food, but for once Lucius did not care. With a crafty look at Narcissa he wasted no time in ordering a chocolate milkshake, cheeseburger with chips and an enormous chunk of cheesecake. With an indulgent you-would-not-get-away-with-a-meal-like-that-under-any-normal-circumstances look on her face, Narcissa ordered a soda and a stack of blueberry pancakes for herself and a plate of fries for Draco, and made a light, acerbic remark that for a man who had just escaped the Dementors he was wasting no time in finding an alternate cause of death, namely heart failure. Lucius found that it was something he had no difficulty in finding amusing. He roared with laughter at the remark, and the infectiousness of it caused Narcissa to add her own chiming laugh, and even Draco's engaging giggle joined their mirth. It was a comfortable, lighthearted meal, a reconnection with his family, even though it culminated in having to compensate the restaurant for Draco managing somehow to splatter pureed potato all over the walls of not only their booth but the entire establishment. He could not help feeling pride in his son for displaying magical ability at such an early age, and if anything, it made the day even brighter.

It was not until very late into the night, after a more private but no less blissful reconnection with his wife, that Lucius laid to rest his final ghost. Quietly rising from his bed and slipping on his emerald green robe, taking care not to disturb a sleeping Narcissa, he felt a little pang, a stab of uncertainty, a tiny needle of doubt as to whether he should entirely embrace this second chance, leave the values behind him which had almost lost him everything, or if he should leave himself a tiny keyhole, a foothold to power. He padded lightly down the staircase and into the cellar, through to the tiny vault, using his wand to lower the wards he had set up all those months ago. Behind them sat a plain, slightly scuffed leather bound book. A book which held the potential for great things. He remembered the words in the silky, chilly voice of one who was now gone, probably forever. The tantalising, terrifying words.

"_Not just a book, Lucius, but a key, a weapon even, to be used, perhaps, when the time is right, but to be kept safe and secret until I tell you to unleash it. It contains the secrets of the Heir of Slytherin, and will, in time, help in the fight to rid Hogwarts of mudbloods forever. It contains the key which will unlock the Chamber of Secrets."_

He let the tip of his wand rest against the leather cover of the book. A simple incendio would almost certainly suffice to sever his link with all things dark, probably forever. Could he do it? Should he? He had learned his lesson, learned, surely, what was important. His family was his life, the one thing which had kept him going, the one thing which mattered to him. He did not need power and authority, it had only brought him danger in the past. But he had a second chance. A clean slate. This time, he was in control. It could be different. Making a pure world for his son to grow up in... it was within his grasp, should he choose to indulge, with no dark Lord to ensnare him, to twist him to his own dark purpose. His fingers twitched on his wand.

"_Learn from your mistakes, Lucius."_ He could hear Narcissa's clear, sweet voice in his head, almost feel her chin on his shoulder as she looked on and saw him being tempted. He knew he should. He didn't need this anymore. He did not need power, did not need darkness. But his hands did not obey his higher conscience. Without knowing quite why, he replaced the book inside its wards, doubled them, tripled them, and turned his back on the weapon he could not quite make himself destroy. He would not use it. It was just there. A memento, a reminder, of a past he would never repeat. But there nevertheless. Just in case. He returned to bed, slipping his arms around his slender wife, smiling to himself as she wriggled closer to him in her sleep. The diary faded from his mind, and he focused on the soft floral scent of Narcissa, lulling him into sleep.

He had been given a second chance, a chance to live, to love, and he would embrace it. But every Slytherin knows that only a fool will lock the door and throw away the key forever. Things change, and the wise change with them. And the Malfoys would always be counted amongst the wise.

**Oh go on. You know you want to. Review time :)**


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